THE 

GANG  OF  Six 


DU 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Ben  B.  Linclsey 


Gang  of  Six 


nf  %  Hog  Ht 


By  HORACE  ZM.  «DU  BOSE 


Editor  of  tfie  Epwortfi  Era 


rn^n  ar? 


Publishing  House  of  the  cM.  E.  Church,  South 

Smith  &  Lamar,  Agents 

Nashville,  Tennessee,  and  Dallas,  Texas 

1906 


COPYRIGHT 

1906. 
SMITH  &  LAMAR,   AGENTS. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

INTRODUCTORY 5 

I. 
A  MAN  SENT 9 

II. 
THE  GANG 22 

III. 
THE  MEETING  PLACE 37 

IV. 
THE  SQUIRE'S  DEGREE 49 

V. 
LITTLE  KINKY 59 

VI. 
A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY 74 

VII. 

THE  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE 91 

VIII. 
THE  PERFECT  NUMBER 102 

IX. 
THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE 116 

X. 

THE  NEW  SONG 132 

1106239 


INTRODUCTORY. 

THE  "Gang  of  Six"  is  a  story  founded  in  experience. 
It  is  a  composite  narrative  of  actual  demonstrations  in 
social  pedagogy  and  the  work  of  reforming  boy  life. 
The  motif  of  the  writing  is  to  present  in  available 
illustrations  the  most  thoroughly  attested  conclusions 
and  discoveries  of  specialists  and  teachers.  It  is 
hoped  that  the  story  may  become  an  inspiration  to 
many  to  take  up  the  study  of  this  problem;  that  it 
may  even  lead  many  to  dedicate  themselves  to  some  of 
the  lines  of  simple  and  unselfish  effort  suggested  in  it. 

The  philosophical  conclusion,  honored  by  univer- 
sal acquiescence,  that  "the  proper  study  of  mankind 
is  man,"  needs  such  an  extension  of  its  final  term  as 
will  lay  the  stress  of  study  upon  the  beginning  stages 
of  man's  life.  The  proper  study  of  statesman,  teach- 
er, divine,  and  economist  is  the  boy.  The  literature 
on  this  subject  is  meager,  for  the  reason  that  the  in- 
quiry has  but  fairly  begun.  Certain  well-ascertained 
facts  have,  however,  been  set  in  order,  and  the  science 
of  social  pedagogy  may  be  said  to  be  fairly  estab- 
lished on  its  foundations.  The  main  points  in  pai- 
dology,  or  this  special  branch  of  social  reformation, 
may  profitably  be  recounted  here  as  an  introduction  to 
the  story  developed  under  the  title  above  announced. 

There  are  three  periods  in  the  life  of  "man  in  the 
making" — that  is,  the  life  of  man  that  comes  before 
majority.  The  first  period  is  infancy.  Many  efforts 
have  been  made  to  fix  the  limits  of  this  period  in  years. 
It  varies  according  to  birth  conditions,  training,  and 


6  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

native  endowments.  It  ranges  from  birth  to  from  six 
to  nine  years.  The  second  period  is  boyhood  (child- 
hood). It  includes  the  years  from  infancy  to  from  thir- 
teen to  sixteen  years.  The  third  period  is  adolescence 
(youthhood),  which  includes  the  years  from  boyhood 
to  maturity.  During  infancy  the  natural  instincts  are 
emerging  and  the  faculties  are  forming;  conscience 
also  appears.  The  "play  instinct"  is  preeminent  in 
infancy,  but  the  infant  plays  alone.  A  little  later 
there  is  a  disposition  to  join  with  other  chidren,  but 
the  separate  plaj-er  is  still  for  himself.  The  boy  pe- 
riod can  be  said  to  have  come  only  when  the  team  or 
gang  spirit  is  clearly  manifested.  Instinct  then 
turns  to  habit;  the  communal  spirit  obtains,  and  con- 
science often  sinks  to  a  low  ebb.  "The  corporation 
which  has  no  conscience"  is  a  survival  in  manhood 
years  of  what  was  a  mimic  play  against  ethics  in  the 
boy  "gang"  of  the  street  or  the  barn  loft 

The  boy  period  is  the  one  fraught  with  peril  and 
hope.  \Vhoever  gets  truly  hold  of  the  "man  child" 
during  this  stage  can  shape  him  as  he  will,  provided 
his  wisdom  and  spirit  be  matched  to  his  will.  There 
is  much  in  heredity,  but  far  less  than  is  generally 
claimed.  There  is  much  in  the  bent  given  the  "suck- 
ling;" but  wise  and  patient  training  begun  with  the 
earlier  stages  of  boyhood  will  not  only  suffice  to  cor- 
rect the  misdirections  and  perversions  of  infancy,  but 
will  also  neutralize,  in  the  main,  the  currents  of  hered- 
ity. Such  training  becomes  the  channel  of  a  redeem- 
ing and  saving  grace.  Indeed,  it  is  the  ordained 
means  of  making  the  gospel  of  the  restoration  effective 
in  childhood. 


INTRODUCTORY.  7 

Experience  suggests  that  in  the  effort  to  reach  and 
save  the  boy  respect  must  be  had  to  that  which  is 
natural  and  universal  in  him.  The  "Gang  of  Six" 
seeks  to  traverse  the  fields  of  these  inherent  and  char- 
acter-marking instincts.  The  settlement  idea  has  be- 
come a  fixed  and  prominent  one  in  modern  evangelism. 
In  a  modified  form  it  becomes  indispensable  in  organ- 
ized work  with  boys.  You  must  go  to  the  boy;  you 
must  get  down  on  his  level;  you  must  enter  into  sym- 
pathy with  his  tikes,  his  necessities.  The  hero  of  the 
"Gang  of  Six"  saw  this,  and  dedicated  himself  as  a 
man  sent.  He  found  the  boys  he  would  help,  he  in- 
sinuated himself  into  their  secrets,  he  joined  their 
"gang,"  he  made  secrets  for  them,  he  slept  and  ate 
and  talked  with  them,  he  won  them;  and  so  was  able 
to  lead  them  as  he  would. 

The  boy  is  an  ejcclusivist  on  the  line  of  sex.  Be- 
tween childhood  and  adolescence  he  practically  re- 
jects the  companionship  of  any  female  except  his 
mother,  sisters,  and  other  near  female  relatives.  There 
is  no  more  important  fact  in  boy  character  than  this, 
and  it  is  one  that  must  be  respected  by  the  teacher, 
leader,  and  reformer.  Organization  for  his  training 
must,  as  far  as  possible,  proceed  on  the  basis  of  an 
exclusive  fellowship  of  boys.  A  mere  suggestion  in 
this  direction  is  sufficient,  for  the  wisdom  of  the  ac- 
commodation is  apparent. 

The  boy  is  by  nature  a  mystic;  he  loves  and  affects 
mystical  and  secretive  habits.  The  "gang"  is  founded 
half  on  this  and  half  on  the  gregarious  instinct.  The 
infant,  including  the  prenatal  stage,  repeats  the  phys- 
ical evolution  of  the  race ;  but  the  boy  repeats  the  so- 


8  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

cial  stages  and  instincts  of  man  in  the  earliest  ages 
of  his  ethnic  history.  What  is  called  the  troglodyte, 
or  savage,  instinct  in  the  boy  is  not  evil,  but  of  nature ; 
it  is  the  flowing  in  upon  him  of  that  past  life  of  his 
race  to  which  his  own  corresponds.  He  feels  it,  he 
knows  not  how  or  why;  but  it  runs  riot  in  his  imag- 
inations, puts  a  militant  edge  upon  his  every  impulse, 
and  turns  the  world  into  a  fairyland  full  of  the  pos- 
sibilities of  quests  and  adventures.  Now  the  grega- 
rious feeling  is  strong;  he  quits  his  narrow-self  life 
and  seeks  the  larger  life  of  the  street  and  the  "gang." 
"This  instinct  is  legitimate  and  masterful  and  full  of 
possibilities  of  danger  or  help,"  says  Forbush.  Left 
to  itself,  this  "gang"  instinct  tends  to  hardness,  cruel- 
ty, animalism.  Laid  hold  upon  and  trained,  it  becomes 
courage,  affection,  loyalty,  and  the  fruit  of  every  hu- 
man grace.  Brotherly  love,  which  is  the  test  of  per- 
fectness,  takes  ready  root  in  its  soil.  It  is  humanity, 
simply,  and  needs  only  the  sanctifying  touch  to  make 
its  "members  servants  to  righteousness." 

The  purpose  of  this  story  is  to  show  the  wisdom  of 
intensive  work,  and  that  on  small  initial  circles.  The 
model  is  found  in  the  fellowship  of  the  twelve  who 
gathered  about  the  feet  of  the  Son  of  Man.  These 
the  Master  filled  with  himself  and  made  them  in  turn 
vessels  for  the  filling  of  others.  There  is  here  both 
precedent  and  encouragement.  All  great  things  be- 
gin in  little.  The  law  of  the  kingdom  is  multiplication, 
but  the  unit  of  quantity  in  its  life  is  the  mustard  seed. 
"Fear  not,  little  -flock;  for  it  is  your  Father's  good 
pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom." 


I. 

A  MAN  SENT. 

HARRY  WILMOT  was  a  man  called  and  sent.  At 
first  he  felt  this  as  an  indefinite  impression;  then  he 
believed  it  mightily.  At  last  the  facts  proved  it. 

It  was  a  Sabbath  afternoon  in  summer.  The  scene 
was  a  sumptuous  home  in  the  suburbs  of  a  middle- 
sized  modern  city.  At  the  end  of  one  of  the  long 
verandas  of  the  house,  and  deep  in  the  shadows  of 
elms  that  darkled  over  the  roof,  swung  a  hammock 
in  which  reclined  a  young  man,  a  son  of  the  home, 
not  the  eldest  nor  yet  the  youngest,  but  who  had  prob- 
ably begun  to  be  about  seven  and  twenty  years  of  age. 
His  face  was  smooth  and  almost  femininely  tender, 
though  a  broad  pigmentlike  ground  passing  from  ei- 
ther cheek  under  his  chin  showed  where  a  manly 
beard  was  kept  in  constant  repression  by  the  edge  of 
the  razor.  It  was  a  pleasant  face.  With  his  left 
hand  under  his  head,  the  owner  of  the  face  rested 
backward.  His  right  hand  held  a  small  volume,  into 
the  pages  of  which  was  thrust  the  index  finger,  evi- 
dently to  hold  the  paragraph  upon  which  the  reader 
had  paused  to  meditate.  The  half-closed  eyes  indi- 
cated deep  but  not  nervous  or  agitated  thought.  The 
face  indeed  expressed  a  perfect  repose. 

This  was  Harry  Wilmot.  In  frame  and  spirit  he 
was  the  offspring  of  his  mother.  The  father  had 
trained  his  eldest  son  to  financial  pursuits,  and  had 
destined  the  youngest  to  a  special  calling,  to  which 


io  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

end  his  education  was  being  carefully  directed;  but 
he  had  laid  no  special  store  of  expectation  by  the  sec- 
ond. Harry  Wilmot,  from  being  tied  to  his  mother's 
apron  strings  in  childhood,  and  from  growing  up  un- 
der her  shadow  in  that  chivalrous  loyalty  which  is  the 
crown  of  boyish  character,  came  to  be  hailed  by  his 
companions  as  the  "girl-boy,"  and  was  accounted  by 
all  except  his  mother  as  a  delicate  child.  Even  the 
father  referred  to  him  as  "my  pretty  lad,"  but  his 
mother  would  have  it  that  he  was  entitled  to  wear 
only  the  names  of  a  real  manliness.  Harry  accepted 
his  mother's  estimate  of  his  parts,  and  secretly  resent- 
ed the  commiserations  heaped  upon  him  by  others. 
Smarting  under  these  depreciations,  he  entered  the 
boys'  training  school,  and  in  the  athletic  lists  out- 
matched at  once  every  man  of  his  year,  and  took 
prize  after  prize  from  the  seasoned  seniors.  Folds  of 
muscle  accumulated  upon  his  slender  arms,  and  his 
chest  expanded  and  grew  broader  and  broader.  In 
the  class  room  also  he  pressed  his  competitors.  Thus 
it  was  that  he  passed  on  to  the  college,  finished  his 
course,  and  returned  to  his  home  a  specimen  of  rare 
physical  development  and  a  student  of  definite  attain- 
ments. But  the  touches  of  his  mother's  grace  had  de- 
termined his  character.  Through  the  ordeals  and  ex- 
citements of  his  college  years  he  had  obeyed  the  influ- 
ence of  his  mother's  companionship;  the  light  of  faith 
had  not  failed  from  out  his  heart,  nor  had  the  words 
of  reverence  perished  from  his  lips. 

Entering  upon  life,  Harry  Wilmot  chose  the  pro- 
fession of  law,  in  the  practice  of  which  he  had  the 
ordinary  experience  of  those  who  go  into  the  market 


A   MAN  SENT.  H 

with  their  naked  wits  for  assets.  Success  came  slow- 
ly; but  being  reverent,  generous,  and  of  a  sociable 
turn,  he  did  not  lack  for  friends,  or  even  admirers. 
Of  course  he  was  the  bright  particular  light  of  his 
mother's  life,  and  even  his  father  and  elder  brother 
came  to  regard  him  with  that  peculiar  reverence  which 
is  always  shown  to  a  good  man,  whether  young  or  old. 
This  was  Harry  Wilmot  at  the  moment  in  which 
he  reclined  in  the  hammock  on  the  veranda  of  his 
father's  home  on  that  summer  Sabbath  afternoon. 
For  a  long  time  his  eyes  remained  half  closed  in 
meditation;  then,  opening  the  volume,  he  read  again 
and  again  the  words  he  had  marked: 

He  that  can  read  aright  the  heart  of  a  boy  may  read  the 
Galilean  mystery,  and  he  that  can  lead  the  thought  and  love 
of  a  boy  can  shape  the  destiny  of  the  years. 

A  sudden  flush  came  over  the  placid  young  face 
and,  springing  up,  Wilmot  swung  himself  from  the 
hammock  to  the  floor.  He  hastily  tightened  the  belt 
about  his  negligee,  drew  on  his  coat,  and,  picking 
up  his  hat  and  cane,  strode  down  the  steps  of  the 
veranda  and  passed  into  the  wide  avenue  that  led  to 
the  heart  of  the  town.  His  step  was  quicker  than 
usual,  and  his  searching  gaze  took  in  both  sides  of 
the  long  thoroughfare.  His  countenance  expressed 
the  deep  earnestness  of  his  purpose.  He  had  long 
yearned  for  something  definite  to  do  in  the  way  of 
human  help.  He  had  asked  for  a  foundation  of  his 
own  upon  which  to  build.  That  foundation  had  been 
shown  him,  and  he  already  saw  in  vision  something  of 
the  building  to  be  reared  thereupon. 


12  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

Halfway  up  the  street  Wilmot  heard  a  shout  and  a 
clamor  of  youthful  voices.  He  immediately  bent  his 
course  toward  the  sounds,  and  discovered  that  they 
were  made  by  a  group  of  half  a  dozen  boys  engaged 
in  tossing  ball  and  matching  marbles.  It  was  not 
the  first  time  that  Wilmot  had  seen  this  group,  and  he 
rightly  calculated  that  he  should  find  it  at  that  mo- 
ment in  that  particular  place.  He  had  long  been  a 
student  of  the  habits  and  manners  of  boys.  He  had 
early  noted  the  disposition  of  boys  and  youth  of  a 
certain  age  to  fall  into  gangs  or  clans  and  to  hold  to- 
gether, with  little  change,  for  an  indefinite  time.  He 
had  made  a  mental  chart  of  his  own  town  with  refer- 
ence to  these  boy  groups  and  their  places  of  meet- 
ing; he  had  also  gone  deeply  into  books  seeking  aid 
in  his  study,  which  at  first  was  prompted  only  by  a 
generous  interest  in  sociological  progress.  But  now 
a  new  light  had  fallen  upon  the  path  of  his  searchings. 
He  saw  the  boy  no  more  as  an  abstract  sociological 
subject;  but  as  the  one  present,  solvent,  overmastering 
truth  of  the  world.  He  that  would  do  the  highest, 
best,  and  most  enduring  service  to  his  generation 
must  offer  it  to  the  boy  that  is  nearest  him,  and  must 
offer  it  with  a  might  of  earnestness  and  a  passion  of 
perseverance.  These  were  Wilmot's  reflections  as  he 
approached  the  noisy  group.  He  was  barely  in  ear- 
shot when  he  heard  the  largest  boy,  and  by  that  token 
the  leader,  whistle  shrilly,  and  say :  "Hi,  boys !  here 
comes  a  guy  that  looks  like  one  o'  them  Sunday  school 
chaps  up  to  the  mission.  I'll  bet  my  jackknife  against 
a  copper  that  he's  come  to  give  us  a  spiel  about  play- 
ing ball  and  marbles  on  Sunday.  Let's  vamoose." 


A  MAN  SENT.  13 

* 

And  Wilmot  saw  the  ranks  about  to  break  before  his 
eyes,  but  he  succeeded  in  arresting  the  retreat  by  say- 
ing: "Hold  on  there  a  minute,  boys;  I'm  shoving  a 
sure-enough  good  thing  this  afternoon,  and  I  want  to 
give  you  a  show  at  it." 

"What's  it?"  sharply  demanded  the  leader  as  he 
commanded  his  followers  to  stand. 

"Why,  I  want  to  invite  you  boys  to  take  a  trolley 
ride  with  me  away  out  into  the  country,"  answered  the 
young  man,  jingling  a  handful  of  small  coins  in  his 
trousers  pocket  as  he  spoke. 

"You  don't  mean  to  take  the  hull  six  on  us,  does 
you,  partner?"  demanded  the  spokesman. 

"Yes,  I  do;  every  kid  of  you,"  pleasantly  returned 
Wilmot. 

"Why,  partner,  that'll  cost  you  more'n  a  dollar, 
nearly  two  on  'em  fur  the  round  trip,"  objected  the 
other. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Wilmot  in  a  way  that  com- 
pletely convinced  every  member  of  the  group  of  his 
seriousness;  "I  want  your  company,  and  am  willing 
to  pay  well  to  have  it.  It's  my  treat,  and  no  limit;" 
and  with  that  he  began  in  a  most  friendly  way  to 
shake  the  hand  of  each  boy,  beginning  with  the  leader. 

"I  say,  boys!"  cried  that  dignitary  before  Wilmot 
had  finished  the  hand-shaking — "I  say,  we  won't  do 
a  thing  but  go  wid  him,  will  we  ?" 

A  shout  of  approval  broke  as  one  voice  from  the 
mouths  of  the  other  five,  several  of  whom  attested 
their  satisfaction  with  the  arrangement  by  leaping, 
dervishlike,  into  the  air  and  performing  sundry  wheel- 
ing gyrations  on  their  feet  and  hands.  These  were 


I4  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

boys  who  had  lived  so  much  in  the  streets  that  no 
sense  of  restraint  ever  embarrassed  them  in  the  pres- 
ence of  strangers. 

Within  five  minutes  after  the  beginning  of  the  in- 
terview the  whole  company  was  scrambling,  with  the 
aid  of  Wilmot,  into  a  "Highland"  electric  car  bound 
for  the  terminal  near  a  range  of  densely  wooded  hills 
six  miles  from  the  center  of  the  town. 

On  the  way  out  Wilmot  made  an  effort  to  become 
personally  acquainted  with,  and  learn  the  name  of, 
each  of  his  guests.  In  this  he  succeeded  only  in  learn- 
ing that  the  name  of  the  leader  was  Parry  Granger. 
Instantly  thereafter  he  discovered  that  his  energy 
would  be  taxed  to  the  utmost  to  keep  his  company 
aboard  or  to  prevent  its  ejection  for  misdemeanor. 
The  sudden  and  simultaneous  pressure  of  six  electric 
buttons  brought  the  motor  to  a  stand  with  no  passen- 
gers to  alight ;  then  the  danger  gong  set  up  a  banging, 
the  windows  rattled  furiously,  the  passengers  tittered 
and  smiled,  and  the  conductor  raged. 

"You  are  taking  these  young  rogues  to  the  House 
of  Correction,  I  suppose?"  the  latter  said  sarcastically, 
addressing  Wilmot. 

"No,  indeed,"  returned  Wilmot;  "there's  nothing 
serious  the  matter  with  these  boys;  they  are  just 
boys,  that's  all." 

"Well,  thank  heaven !  here's  the  terminus,"  said  the 
collector  of  fares ;  and  with  that  he  gave  the  bell  cord 
a  vigorous  jerk. 

Before  Wilmot  could  rise  from  his  seat,  he  saw  the 
six  boys  roll  in  a  confused  mass  from  the  rear  plat- 
form amongst  the  grasses  and  flowering  weeds  grow- 


A  MAN  SENT.  15 

ing  beside  the  railway  track.  He  followed  as  quickly 
as  he  could;  and  before  the  car  had  ceased  moving, 
getting  his  followers  together  in  something  like  order, 
he  led  the  way  to  a  strip  of  virgin  forest  which  he 
knew  as  "Applegate  Wood."  This  woodland  climbed 
up  the  sides  of  romantic  hills  that  broke  into  craggy 
points  and  ferny  cliffs.  It  was  a  boys'  paradise,  and 
one  in  which  Wilmot  had  spent  many  a  holiday  in  his 
own  boyhood.  Stopping  in  a  once  well-known  and 
favorite  spot,  he  seated  himself  at  the  root  of  a  great 
tree,  saying:  "This  will  do,  boys.  We'll  sit  here 
awhile,  and  get  better  acquainted." 

The  six  boys  dropped  at  once  in  a  circle  about  his 
feet.  The  posture  assumed  by  each  was  characteristic. 
Some  settled  on  their  "hunkers,"  one  or  two  sat  Turk 
fashion  on  the  grass,  while  several  clutched  their  great 
toes  as  they  lay  half  reclining  on  their  elbows.  All 
of  them,  including  Granger,  the  leader,  looked  in- 
quisitively into  Wilmot's  face. 

"Now,  Granger,"  said  Wilmot  after  all  was  quiet, 
"I  want  you  to  introduce  each  of  your  friends  to  me. 
We're  going  to  be  boys  together  this  afternoon,  and 
we  want  to  know  one  another's  names,  you  know. 
My  name  is  Mr.  Wilmot,  Harry  Wilmot;  but  you 
may  call  me  'Partner/  or  anything  you  wish,  until  we 
get  well  acquainted." 

"I  ain't  much  of  an  introducer,  Mr.  Wilmot,"  said 
Granger;  "but  I'll  jest  call  off  each  feller's  name 
as  they  sits,  an'  I  reckon  that'll  do,  won't  it?" 

"O  yes,"  assented  Wilmot;  "but  the  boys  wouldn't 
mind  your  telling  me  as  you  go  along  how  old  each 
one  is  and  something  about  his  parents,  would  they?" 


1 6  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

"You  bet  we  wouldn't,"  quickly  and  confidently 
returned  Granger;  "we  fellers  ain't  ashamed  o'  noth- 
ing about  us,  'ceptin  it  might  be  little  Kinky  over 
there  [pointing  toward  a  small  curly-haired  elf],  who's 
runned  away  from  somewhere.  Some  on  us,  too, 
is  maybe  runned  away  from  home  sence  dinner,  so's 
to  meet  the  gang,  an'  maybe  there's  a  lickin'  waitin'  for 
some  on  us,  but  that  ain't  nothin';  every  kid  on  us 
has  had  that,  an'  more'n  once,  too." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  it's  no  worse  than  that,"  said  Wil- 
mot.  "It  will  be  better,  much  better,  after  a  while; 
so  let's  get  introduced  right  off." 

"Sure,"  spoke  up  Granger,  and  began  circumstan- 
tially as  follows:  "That  kid  over  there  on  your  left 
han'  is  Jimmy  Glenn ;  he's  nine  years  old" — 

"Pshaw!"  broke  in  Jimmy.  "I'm  a-goin  on  ten," 
and  his  tone  showed  that  he  was  indignant  at  his 
leader's  failure  to  do  him  full  justice  before  a  stranger. 

"You  needn't  mind  Jimmy,  partner;  he  ain't  but 
nine  years  an'  a  month  old.  Jimmy  runs  fur  a  grocer 
in  Fifth  Street.  He  wants  to  be  tough,  but  he  ain't 
learned  how  yit;  but  he  ain't  bin  in  town  but  a  year. 
His  mother's  the  Widder  Glenn  an'  lives  on  Fountain 
Road." 

Jimmy  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  dispute  other 
items  in  Granger's  inventory  (he  was  sure  that  he 
was  beginning  to  be  tough),  but  he  only  smiled  an 
embarrassed  kind  of  smile  and  tugged  desperately  at 
his  great  toe.  Notwithstanding  his  own  and  Granger's 
doubtful  estimate,  Jimmy  was  an  honest-looking  lad 
with  a  suit  of  thin  sandy  hair,  a  long,  rather  pointed 
nose,  and  a  wart  under  his  chin. 


A  MAN  SENT.  17 

"The  feller  next  to  Jimmy,"  continued  Granger — 
"that's  Mack  Pooley.  His  folks,  an'  him  too,  works  up 
to  the  Cotton  Mill — that  is,  him  an'  his  mother  an' 
two  sisters  does — but  his  daddy  mostly  don't  work 
none,  but  sets  up  to  the  grocery  store,  chaws  terbacker, 
whittles  on  a  stick,  and  talks  about  what  a  hard  time 
he  has  s'portin'  his  family.  But  my !  he's  a  yarn  spin- 
ner from  away  back ;  an'  he  puts  plenty  o'  cuss  words 
in  'em,  too;  an'  that's  what  the  fellers  all  likes  up 
there." 

"But  what  about  Mack?"  quietly  interrupted  Wil- 
mot,  seeing  that  Granger  was  both  wandering  and 
distressing  Mack  by  a  too  free  account  of  the  weak- 
nesses of  his  paternal  ancestor. 

"Mack?  Why,  he's  all  right,"  exclaimed  Granger. 
"Mack's  ten  years  old,  but  he  earns  two  dollars  and 
a  half  a  week  workin'  at  the  mill." 

Mack,  who  was  a  dwarfish-looking  child,  but  not 
ill-featured,  seemed,  at  first,  to  desire  to  make  some 
sort  of  rejoinder  to  Granger's  portrayal  of  his  fa- 
ther's indolent  habits,  but  the  reference  to  his  own 
industry  apparently  appeased  him,  and  he  offered  no 
protest,  except  to  say:  "My  pa  had  the  measles  onct." 

"Yes,  an'  mine  had  the  smallpox  down  to  New  Or- 
leans last  year,"  derisively  piped  out  another  little  fel- 
low who  had  not  yet  been  introduced. 

''That  ain't  nothin',"  chimed  in  Kinky;  "I  had  the 
mtimpst  all  by  myself  one  time." 

"He  had  to  have  'em  by  hisself,"  broke  in  another 
boy,  "  'cause  he  didn't  have  no  daddy  to  have  'em 
fer  him." 

All   the  boys  laughed   at   this   sally  except   K.;nky 


1 8  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

himself,  who  turned  his  big  brown  eyes  up  into  Wil- 
mot's  face  and  regarded  him  with  a  pathos  and  won- 
der that  went  to  the  young  man's  heart.  Poor  little 
waif!  there  was  a  mystery  about  his  life  that  Wilmot 
could  only  guess;  but  that  one  confiding  look  of  the 
homeless,  parentless  child  was  itself  a  justification  of 
the  large  plan  upon  which  he  was  entering. 

By  this  time  the  ceremony  of  introduction  had  been 
so  thoroughly  sidetracked  that  Wilmot  had  to  cite  the 
master  to  his  unfinished  office. 

"That  third  chap,"  Granger  resumed  nonchalantly 
enough,  "is  Tommy  Biles — that  ain't  much  fer  a  name, 
partner,  but  Tommy's  the  real  thing.  His  father  and 
mother  keeps  the  bakery  with  the  red  sign  near  to 
the  car  shed.  Tommy's  nearly  'leven  years  old,  an' 
goes  to  school  week  days,  'ceptin'  when  he's  a-playin' 
hooky." 

"You're  another,"  growled  Tommy,  indignant  at 
what  was  meant  to  be  a  sly  jest,  but  which  stood  some 
remote  chance  of  being  a  slander.  But  Granger  not 
appearing  to  hear  the  disclaimer,  and  Tommy  being 
good-natured,  through  being  well-fed  from  the  bakery 
bins,  subsided  and  permitted  the  introductions  to  pro- 
ceed. 

"That  little  feller  there  by  you  is  Kinky,  as  I  said 
before,"  observed  Granger,  going  on  with  the  pre- 
sentation. "He  ain't  got  no  name  but  'Kinky,'  so  fur 
as  I  know,  an'  so  fur  as  he  knows,  too.  He  jest  hap- 
pened along  here  from  some  place,  he  don't  know 
where.  He  don't  know  how  ol'  he  is,  an'  nobody  else 
don't  know.  Kinky  sells  papers  an'  lives  most  any- 
wheres ;  right  now  he  stays  o'  nights  at  the  Newsboys' 


A   MAN  SENT.  19 

Barracks.     That's  all  anybody  knows  about  Kinky, 
an'  that's  all  Kinky  knows  hisself." 

Wilmot  looked  tenderly  and  yearningly  again  at  the 
ill-clad,  barefoot,  curly-pated  little  nondescript,  and 
could  not  refrain  from  taking  a  second  time  the  hand 
of  the  nameless  child.  Not  only  did  he  take  it,  but 
he  drew  its  owner  close  under  his  arm,  and  said :  "Sit 
down  beside  me,  'Kinky.'  We're  going  to  be  partners 
all  the  time."  And  with  that  he  seated  the  frowzy 
newsboy  on  the  tree  root  beside  himself.  The  other 
boys  did  not  see  that  at  the  same  time  he  thrust  a 
big  bright  silver  coin  into  the  pocket  of  Kinky's  ragged 
jacket.  While  doing  this  he  was  saying:  "There's  one 
other  boy,  Granger ;  tell  me  about  him." 

"That's  the  feller  here  by  me,"  responded  Granger. 
"He's  the  big  bug  of  us  all.  You  see  he's  got  on  good 
clothes  an'  polished  shoes.  He's  next  to  me,  the  old- 
est boy  in  the  crowd;  he's  twelve,  an'  I'm  thirteen. 
His  name  is  Sim  Phillips,  an'  his  father  keeps  a  gro- 
cery store  down  by  the  Viaduct.  Sim's  sometimes  got 
money  enough  to  set  'em  all  up  to  us,  an'  he's  the 
stuff  to  do  it.  Me  and  Sim  sorter  leads  the  boys. 
My  father  runs  a  dye  shop,  an'  I'm  tryin'  to  learn  to 
be  a  printer ;  but  they  says  up  to  the  office  that  I  needs 
grammar,  an'  I  reckon  that's  so,  for  I  ain't  got  to  be 
nothin'  but  a  devil  yet;  but  I'm  afeard  that  grammar 
book  is  a  little  more'n  I  wanter  tackle." 

"Couldn't  you  try  it  at  night  school?"  suggested 
Wilmot. 

"Well,  I  sorter  thought  o'  that,  partner,  but  I  never 
has  the  sponds;  an'  ef  I  did,  I'm  too  sleepy-headed  to 
read  by  a  light." 


20  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

"Suppose  somebody  gave  you  your  tuition.  Would 
you  try  it  then?"  asked  Wilmot. 

"Well,  I  mought,  an'  then  ag'in  I  moughtn't,"  was 
the  doubtful  reply.  Granger  was  not  dull  by  nature; 
on  the  contrary,  he  was  shrewd  almost  to  cunning  and 
had  the  latent  element  of  the  initiative,  but  his  train- 
ing had  been  so  woefully  neglected  that  scarcely  a 
spark  of  intelligent  ambition  had  ever  been  kindled 
in  him. 

Wilmot  made  a  mental  note  concerning  Granger 
and  the  possibilities  of  his  case,  and  was  about  to 
arise  from  his  seat  when  Sim  Phillips,  the  only  boy 
who  had  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation,  shook  off 
what  seemed  to  be  a  restraint  and  said :  "Now,  Mister, 
since  the  introducin'  is  over,  what's  to  be  the  racket? 
for  the  boys  are  lookin'  for  a  good  time." 

Wilmot  was  taken  a  little  aback  by  the  abrupt  turn 
given  the  interview  by  the  grocer's  son ;  but  contin- 
uing to  arise,  he  said:  "The  racket  is,  boys,  that  you 
are  to  have  the  freedom  of  this  wood  for  an  hour. 
Do  what  you  like:  play  hare  and  hound;  climb  trees; 
wade  in  the  brook — in  a  word,  take  everything  in 
sight." 

"An'  you  don't  call  that  Sunday-breakin',  do  you, 
Mister?"  asked  Sim,  involuntarily  superseding  Gran- 
ger as  spokesman. 

"That's  all  right,"  answered  Wilmot  without  ac- 
cepting the  issue.  "Take  your  fill  of  fun;  and  after 
the  hour  is  out,  we'll  come  back  for  a  little  chat.  I 
will  then  tell  you  of  a  fine  scheme  I  have  for  us  to 
work  out  together." 

"An'  you  pay  the  freight?"  asked  Sim. 


A  MAN  SENT.  21 

"That's  what  I  mean,"  quietly  replied  Wilmot. 

"Three  cheers  and  a  tiger  for  Mr.  Wil — Wil — what 
is  it?"  stammered  Sim. 

"Wilmot !"  shouted  half  the  other  boys. 

"For  Mr.  Wilmot,"  concluded  Sim. 

The  cheers  were  given,  disorderly  enough,  but  with 
no  lack  of  enthusiasm,  and  the  boys  broke  in  a  tumult 
of  sport  through  the  trees,  over  the  brook,  and  up 
the  ferny  slopes  of  the  hills.  It  was  the  uncorking  of 
pent-up  hilarity,  good  humor,  and  boyish  zest. 


II. 

THE  GANG. 

EXCITED  from  their  romp  and  with  lungs  filled  with 
healthful  and  exhilarating  air,  the  six  boys  at  the  end 
of  an  hour  flung  themselves  down  in  a  circle  at  Wil- 
mot's  feet,  where  he  had  seated  himself  in  much  the 
same  position  as  before.  A  change  had  come  over  the 
spirit  of  each  boy.  From  being  diffident  and  betraying 
more  or  less  doubt  as  to  the  purpose  of  their  new- 
made  acquaintance,  each  showed  in  his  glowing  face 
and  in  the  little  comments  and  ejaculations  which  he 
indulged  that  confidence  and  trustfulness  which  all 
boys  manifest  toward  an  elder  brother.  Wilmot  saw 
at  once  how  wisely  he  had  adopted  at  the  very  begin- 
ning the  means  by  which  he  hoped  to  reach  his  end. 
He  greeted  each  boy  with  a  pleasant  smile  or  a  brief 
speech  in  praise  of  his  swift-footedness,  his  good  wind, 
his  jumping  or  climbing,  or  the  distance  to  which  he 
could  throw  a  stone,  or  the  number  of  steps  he  could 
make  walking  on  his  hands. 

At  last,  when  everything  was  again  quiet,  Granger, 
looking  around  the  circle  as  though  to  make  sure  that 
everything  was  right,  said:  "Well,  partner,  we  are 
all  ready  now ;  it's  your  spiel." 

"If  I  should  offer  to  tell  you  a  story,  what  would 
you  boys  rather  it  should  be  about?"  asked  Wilmot, 
looking  thoughtfully  up  to  the  dark  tree  branches 
above,  through  which  the  afternoon  sun  was  falling 
like  a  fine  mist  of  gold. 

"I  want  to  hear  'bout  bears  an'  things,"  piped  up 


THE  GANG.  23 

• 

Kinky,  seated,  as  before,  close  up  to  Wilmot  and  on 
the  right  side.  And  the  eyes  of  the  little  Arab  spar- 
kled as  they  surveyed  the  reasurring  face  of  Wilmot. 

"No,  we'd  ruther  hear  about  Indians  and  cowboys," 
almost  shouted  Sim  Phillips,  and  several  other  boys 
joined  in  the  request;  but  Granger,  in  a  rather  judi- 
cial tone,  entered  a  demurrer  to  both,  saying:  "These 
kids  is  green,  partner,  an'  don't  know  nuthin'  'bout 
the  r'al  thing  when  it  comes  to  a  story.  I  think  we'd 
oughter  hear  about  detectives  an'  burglars,  er  about 
them  fellers  what  you  call  piroots,  er  about  'Curly 
Bill/  the  stage  robber,  er  some  other  crook  what  gits 
a  pile  o'  swag.  We  don't  wanter  hear  none  o'  them 
mission  Sunday  school  stories  about  bears  eatin'  up 
kids  that  don't  say  their  prayers.  No,  sir,  what  we 
wants  is  the  r'al  thing." 

This  brief  interview  revealed  to  Wilmot,  as  nothing 
before  had  ever  done,  the  law  of  cohesion  in  boys' 
compacts.  The  gregarious  habit  is  of  instinct.  Lamb- 
kins, calves,  and  chicks  in  the  barnyards  answer  the 
same  instinct.  But  the  boy  answers  a  higher,  if  often 
a  hurtful,  influence.  The  bare  fact  of  flocking  is  one 
thing;  the  character  of  association  is  another.  Usual- 
ly one  boy,  older  than  the  others,  draws  around  him 
a  group  and  holds  it  together  for  a  longer  or  shorter 
time.  He  is  the  strongest  character,  but  is  seldom 
either  the  most  intelligent  or  the  most  moral  of  the 
group.  His  quality  and  appeal  of  leadership  come 
from  the  opposite  traits.  This  is  the  heart  of  the  boy 
problem.  It  is  deplorable,  but  it  is  of  nature,  or  at 
least  of  heredity,  which  is  probably  only  another  way 
of  saying  the  same  thing.  Boys  at  this  age  (say  from 


24  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

eight  to  thirteen)  begin  to  develop  the  savage  impulse. 
All  the  predatory,  venatorial,  and  troglodyte  instincts 
of  the  race  recur  in  the  boy  at  this  period.  The  bar- 
barian rises  up  in  him,  varying  in  intensity  according 
to  conditions.  He  seeks  a  leader,  a/id  a  savage  one  at 
that.  The  leader  must  be  bold  of  speech,  and  must  be 
able  to  make  a  manifest  of  both  muscle  and  courage — 
in  a  word,  he  must  be  a  Sea  King,  a  Khan,  or  at  least 
a  Robin  Hood.  This  ideal  of  leadership  is  not  neces- 
sarily a  fruit  of  depravity.  It  is  rather  a  matter  of 
atavism,  the  recurrence  for  a  little  while  in  the  boy  of 
the  spirit  of  the  far-off  race  father.  Turned  in  the 
right  direction,  this  spirit  is  a  man  maker,  for  it  is 
easily  humanized. 

Wilmot  saw,  in  the  brief  moments  in  which  he  in- 
dulged his  reflections,  such  a  leader  in  Granger,  who 
had  organized  this  group  and  made  it,  though  prob- 
ably without  the  least  foresight,  into  a  complete  in- 
dividuality. He  was  taller  by  two  inches  than  the 
tallest  (a  king-making  accident)  ;  he  had  the  speech 
and  the  leader  spirit.  The  other  boys  answered  their 
nature  bent  and  followed. 

These  reflections  occupied  Wilmot  for  but  a  mo- 
ment, and  he  was  almost  instantly  ready  with  an  an- 
swer to  the  varying  requests  concerning  the  kind  of 
a  story  to  be  told.  So  he  said :  "Kinky  is  the  young- 
est, and  was  the  first  to  speak.  I  think  we  will  tell  a 
bear  story.  There  will  be  something  in  it  about  In- 
dians, too;  and  I  am  sure  it  will  please  Granger."  A 
clap  of  hands  all  around  indicated  that  the  decision 
gave  complete  satisfaction.  Thereupon  Wilmot  began 
and  told  the  story  of 


THE  GANG.  25 

THE  GREAT  BLACK  BEAR. 

Far  away  in  the  land  of  the  North  there  is  a  range 
of  tall,  dim  mountains  in  whose  passes  it  is  always 
winter,  and  where  the  snow  lies  in  drifts  and  heaps 
through  all  the  year.  These  mountains'  stretch  from 
one  sea  to  the  other,  but  there  is  a  trail  or  path  which 
winds  across  them  from  valley  to  valley.  Those  who 
would  journey  from  one  valley  to  another  must  needs 
take  this  path,  though  it  is  beset  with  the  greatest 
danger,  both  from  the  fierce  cold  of  the  endless  winter 
and  from  the  huge  beasts — the  black  bears  and  the 
gray  wolves — that  infest  the  mountains  about. 

There  was  once  known  to  live  in  a  dark  cave  near 
the  path  where  it  crossed  the  very  summit  of  these 
mountains  a  great  black  bear  which  was  the  terror  of 
travelers  who  went  that  way.  When  the  great  black 
bear,  who  looked  himself  like  a  dark  hill  rising  above 
the  snow,  saw  that  a  traveler  was  in  the  path,  he  came 
out  of  his  cave  and  growled  so  fiercely  that  all  the 
rocks  shook;  or  if  he  walked  between  the  sun  and 
the  path,  he  made  such  a  shadow  on  the  snow  that 
the  wayfarer  thought  a  cloud  had  come  over  the  sky. 
Thus  he  terrified  travelers;  and  when  they  were  still 
in  their  fright,  he  seized  such  as  he  would  and  dragged 
them  off  to  his  cave,  where  he  devoured  them  and  left 
their  bones  scattered  about  the  floor  of  his  house. 
This  went  on  a  great  many  years,  and  everybody  in 
the  land  heard  of  the  great  black  bear  and  of  his  hor- 
rid cave  in  the  winter  mountains.  Sometimes  the  men 
who  had  to  journey  over  these  mountains  went  in 
companies,  and  some  of  them  carried  arms  so  as  to 
protect  the  rest;  but  the  black  bear  was  sure  to  catch 


26  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

one  of  the  company  apart  from  the  others,  and  giving 
a  sudden  growl  he  so  terrified  him  that  he  could  not 
think  what  to  do.  Before  he  could  recover  from  his 
fright,  the  black  bear  had  him,  weapon  and  all,  and 
was  on  the  way  to  his  cave. 

The  Indians  that  dwelt  in  the  valleys  on  each  side 
of  these  mountains  had  long  known  of  this  bear,  and 
did  not  less  fear  him  than  did  the  white  men.  They 
often  shot  their  arrows  at  him,  and  had  thrown  their 
spears  against  his  shaggy  sides,  but  they  could  make 
no  wound  through  his  thick  coat.  They  came  at  last 
to  believe  that  he  was  something  more  than  a  wild 
beast,  and  so  they  called  him  the  Evil  Spirit.  They 
said  also  that  when  he  growled  his  voice  was  like  that 
of  a  man,  only  so  much  louder  as  the  thunder  is  louder 
than  the  wind.  From  their  chief  down  to  their  young 
men,  they  all  said  that  if  the  great  black  bear  was 
ever  slain  it  would  be  by  the  hand  of  a  white  man. 

In  the  course  of  time  it  happened  that  the  valleys 
on  both  sides  of  the  mountains  were  settled  by  white 
men.  Before  these  valleys  had  belonged  only  to  the 
Indians;  and  when  they  saw  white  men  coming  into 
their  lands,  they  became  very  angry,  and  often  slew 
the  people  and  burned  their  houses  with  fire.  But 
the  white  men  came  on  in  greater  numbers,  and  there 
were  pretty  farmhouses  and  also  villages  that  spread 
from  the  base  of  the  mountains  out  into  the  valleys, 
for  the  climate  in  the  valleys  was  mild  and  the  soil 
was  rich  and  easily  tilled.  In  the  northern  valley 
there  was  a  village  that  spread  under  the  shelter  of  a 
tall  rock  that  stood  at  the  very  place  where  the  path 
started  up  the  mountain  leading  to  the  valley  on  the 


THE  GANG.  27 

south.  One  winter  evening  when  the  villagers,  who 
were  no  more  than  a  dozen  men,  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, and  a  few  aged  people,  the  grandsires  and  grand- 
mothers of  the  village,  were  taking  their  evening  meal 
they  heard  a  cry  of  savage  Indians  coming  up  from 
the  valley.  There  was  a  great  company  of  them,  and 
they  soon  surrounded  the  place.  The  men  of  the  vil- 
lage then  took  their  wives  and  little  ones  and  the  very 
aged  men  and  women  and,  with  their  rifles  in  hand, 
gathered  in  the  largest  and  strongest  house  in  the  vil- 
lage and  prepared  to  keep  the  savages  at  bay  until  they 
should  secure  help  from  other  villages. 

There  was  not  a  man  who  could  be  spared  from 
the  defense,  because  the  savages  were  so  many.  But 
they  must  have  a  messenger.  There  was  nobody  to 
go  except  a  little  lad  of  twelve  years,  Albert  Knudson. 
Albert  was  brave,  and  had  been  taught  that  it  was  no- 
ble to  face  dangers  and  even  die  for  others.  He 
knew  all  the  valleys  about  and  every  path  in  the  moun- 
tain. So  he  agreed  to  go  for  help.  It  was  impossible 
to  go  down  to  the  valley,  for  the  savages  had  cut  the 
village  off  from  the  valley  on  every  side.  The  only 
way  open  was  the  one  across  the  mountains  to  some 
village  in  the  valley  beyond.  The  men  thought  it  best 
to  send  Albert  over  this  path,  and  he  readily  agreed 
to  go.  He  was  too  small  to  carry  a  rifle,  if  one  could 
have  been  spared  from  the  defense  against  the  savages ; 
so  he  took  only  a  hunting  knife  in  a  belt  which  he 
buckled  over  his  hunting  shirt.  He  wore  thick  leather 
breeches  and  high  boots.  With  a  pouch  of  food,  Al- 
bert started  on  his  long  and  dangerous  journey.  He 
knew  about  the  wolves,  and  especially  about  the  great 


28  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

black  bear,  and  was  on  the  lookout  for  him.  He  knew 
also  about  the  bear's  terrible  voice,  and  was  deter- 
mined not  to  be  terrified  by  it.  But  he  listened,  lis- 
tened for  growlings  and  voices  louder  than  the  winds. 

It  was  at  the  deep  middle  of  the  night,  and  a  fierce 
north  wind  was  blowing  on  his  back  when  he  came 
near  to  the  highest  summit  of  the  mountain.  He 
could  see  the  way  before  him,  for  a  few  cold  stars 
were  shining  through  rifts  in  the  clouds,  and  the  snow- 
covered  mountains  were  white  with  ghostly  light. 
Suddenly,  about  this  time,  the  lad  heard  a  loud,  long 
growl,  after  which  the  rocks  seemed  to  shake,  and  he 
knew  it  was  the  voice  of  the  great  black  bear.  He 
refused  to  be  terrified,  and  said:  "I  am  going  to  save 
people  alive;  I  do  not  think  the  bear  will  be  able  to 
devour  me ;  I  will  run  very  fast  and  will  not  be  afraid." 
But  in  the  next  instant  the  shadow  of  the  bear  shut 
out  the  stars,  and  Albert  found  himself  in  the  crea- 
ture's jaws  and  being  borne  swiftly  away,  as  he  knew, 
to  the  horrid  black  cave.  Now  he  thought:  "My 
courage  was  vain,  and  I  thought  to  do  good  to 
others  in  vain ;  but  I  can  die  and  not  be  afraid." 
The  bear,  he  knew,  would  soon  devour  him.  But  he 
noticed  now  that  the  creature's  teeth  did  not  seem  to 
pierce  his  leather  jacket.  From  this  he  took  a  little 
hope,  and,  feeling  for  his  hunting  knife,  he  drew  it 
forth  from  its  belt  and  held  it  in  his  hand. 

When  the  bear  had  gone  up  and  down  many  steep 
places  and  dragged  his  victim  through  many  deep 
snowdrifts,  he  came  to  the  mouth  of  his  cave.  There 
he  stopped  and,  smelling  the  boy  over  from  head  to 
foot,  carried  him  in  and  laid  him  down  upon  the  floor 


THE  GANG.  29 

very  much  as  a  cat  does  a  mouse.  Albert  lay  very 
still  for  a  moment.  There  was  a  horrid  smell  in  the 
cave,  and  the  darkness  was  seven  times  blacker  than 
night.  A  shudder  swept  over  his  frame,  but  he  sat 
up  a  little ;  then  he  stood  on  his  feet  and,  grasping  the 
hilt  of  his  knife  very  tightly,  set  his  back  against  the 
wall  of  the  cave.  He  could  not  see  the  bear,  but  he 
could  hear  him  sniffling  about  and  coming  always 
nearer.  The  boy  held  his  knife  ready  to  strike.  Pres- 
ently he  felt  the  frosty  tip  ol  the  bear's  nose  touch 
his  outstretched  left  hand;  then  with  all  his  might  he 
fell  upon  the  haft  of  his  knife  and,  striking  out  into 
the  darkness,  drove  it  through  the  bear's  neck  into  his 
heart.  With  a  growl  that  shook  the  whole  cave  the 
monster  fell  over  and  died.  Albert  then  felt  of  him- 
self from  head  to  foot,  but  found  neither  wound  nor 
scratch  upon  his  body.  At  this  he  rejoiced,  and  at 
once  fell  to  work  with  his  knife  to  take  the  skin  off 
the  bear  he  had  slain.  It  did  not  take  long  to  do  this ; 
for,  though  he  was  so  young  a  lad,  he  had  skinned 
many  an  ox  and  not  a  few  bears  before.  Having  tak- 
en the  skin  off,  he  dragged  it  after  him,  following  as 
best  he  could  the  tracks  made  by  the  bear.  It  was  a 
great  task,  and  by  the  time  he  had  reached  the  high 
path  again  there  was  a  gray  light  of  dawn  on  the 
mountains.  When  he  realized  perfectly  his  own  de- 
liverance, he  began  to  grieve  for  his  friends  in  the 
village,  for  he  felt  that  by  this  time  they  must  either 
have  been  slain  or  carried  away  as  captives.  He  was 
in  the  midst  of  these  sad  thoughts  when  he  heard  sav- 
age shouts  coming  up  the  mountain  path.  When  the 
shouters  came  nearer  to  him,  he  saw  that  they  were 


30  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

Indians  upon  ponies;  that  some  of  them  carried  rifles 
and  that  they  had  prisoners  bound  on  ponies  which 
they  drove  before  them.  He  understood  that  they 
had  captured  the  villagers  and  were  carrying  them 
across  the  mountains  to  the  home  of  their  tribe  in 
another  valley. 

It  did  not  take  Albert  long  to  resolve  what  to  do. 
Throwing  the  bearskin  over  his  body,  he  began  to 
growl  as  loudly  as  he  could.  He  knew  some  Indian 
words,  and  these  he  repeated  in  a  terrible  roll  and  roar 
of  voice.  The  Indians  were  sure  they  had  met  the 
Evil  Spirit,  so  they  shot  no  arrow  nor  threw  any  spear  ; 
but  the  foremost  fled  in  terror,  leaving  their  captives 
still  tied  to  the  ponies.  When  Albert  could  get  near 
enough  to  the  first  captive,  he  cut  the  thongs  with 
which  he  was  bound,  then  another.  These  two  seized 
the  rifles  which  the  fleeing  Indians  had  abandoned  and 
began  to  rain  bullets  amongst  the  other  savages.  Soon 
the  captive  men,  women,  and  children  were  all  re- 
leased, and  with  such  ponies  as  they  could  gather  to- 
gether they  made  their  way  safely  back  to  the  village. 
Albert  carried  back  with  him  the  skin  of  the  great 
black  bear,  which  he  nailed  to  the  wall  of  the  strong 
house;  and  for  many  days  thereafter  he  showed  it  to 
strangers,  telling  them  of  his  night  adventure  in  the 
winter  mountains.  Also  the  governor  of  the  province 
sent  him  a  purse  full  of  gold  coins  and  gave  him  the 
title  of  "The  Little  Scout." 

During  the  recital  of  this  story  the  boys,  from 
Granger  to  Kinky,  were  all  attention,  their  enthusiasm 
growing  at  each  stage.  An  indefinable  quietness 
reigned  for  half  a  minute  after  the  story  was  ended. 


THE  GANG.  31 

Wilmot  perceived  thereby  that  the  veiled  moral  had 
not  been  lost. 

Granger  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence.  "Part- 
ner," he  exclaimed,  "that  there  wa'n't  no  yaller  kid,  that 
bear  killer,  wus  he?" 

"No,  I  think  he  was  not,"  replied  Wilmot;  "he  was 
a  real  hero.  But  maybe  it  was  because  Albert  was 
risking  his  life  to  help  others  that  he  had  such  good 
luck  and  did  what  others  could  not  do — killed  the  great 
black  bear." 

"I'll  bet  a  plunker  that's  jest  why  it  wus,"  declared 
Granger,  with  enthusiasm. 

"I  am  sure  it  was — in  fact,  I  know  it  was,"  replied 
Wilmot. 

"But  I'd  like  to  know  what  become  of  that  little 
feller  after  he  was  growed  up,"  put  in  Tommy  Biles. 

"I'll  bet  you  anything  he  fought  Indians  all  the 
time,"  suggested  Sim  Phillips,  his  thoughts  centering 
in  the  title  which  the  little  hero  had  won. 

"Maybe  he  growed  up  an'  wrote  stories  for  little 
boys,"  ventured  Kinky,  his  familiarity  with  the  out- 
side of  newspapers  suggesting  a  great  possibility. 

"Suppose  he  became  governor  of  the  province?" 
said  Wilmot,  by  way  of  testing  the  sentiment  of  his 
hearers.  "Suppose  he  became  governor  and  lived  in 
peace  in  a  great  white  house — wouldn't  that  be  bet- 
ter?" 

All  the  boys  except  Sim  accepted  this  view  and  ap- 
proved of  Wilmot's  idea  in  general. 

"Don't  you  agree  with  the  other  boys,  Sim?"  he 
asked  of  the  dissident. 

"Well,  I  reckon  so,"  he  answered  slowly.     "Bein' 


32  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

governor  is  pretty  good,  but  fightin'  Indians  is  just 
bully." 

Perceiving  that  he  now  had  the  unreserved  con- 
fidence of  all  the  boys,  Wilmot  resolved  to  venture  a 
step  farther.  Addressing  Granger,  he  asked:  "Why 
do  you  six  boys  always  go  together?  I  have  seen 
you  often  on  the  street,  and  there  are  always  just  six 
of  you.  Why  is  this?" 

"Why,  hit's  our  gang,  partner,"  answered  Granger 
without  reserve.  "We  six  belongs  to  the  gang.  The 
gang  wus  started  first  by  me  an'  Sim,  an'  we've  added 
one  after  another  until  we  tuck  in  little  Kinky,  an'  he 
makes  six." 

"What  does  your  gang  do?"  cautiously  inquired 
Wilmot. 

"Well,"  answered  the  leader,  showing  himself  a 
slight  caution,  "we  plays  together  on  Sundays  an'  hol- 
idays, an'  don't  let  no  other  boys  know  what  we  knows ; 
an'  we  fights  for  one  another  if  other  boys  imposes 
on  us." 

"Do  you  have  a  meeting  place  ?"  diplomatically  con- 
tinued Wilmot. 

"No,  not  edzactly,"  replied  Granger;  "we've  been 
thinkin'  about  gittin'  one  like  some  o'  the  other  gangs 
has,  but  we  ain't  got  none  yit." 

"What  sort  of  places  have  the  other  gangs?"  asked 
Wilmot,  showing  his  lawyer  instinct. 

"O,  one  on  'em  meets  under  the  stone  arch  of  the 
viaduct,  an'  one  meets  in  the  loft  of  the  ol'  Giles  ter- 
backer  house,  an'  that's  where  most  on  'em  learned 
to  smoke,  there  bein'  lots  of  terbacker  leaves  wasted  on 
the  floor.  I  belonged  that  gang  before  me  an'  Sim 


THE  GANG.  33 

made  up  this  un.  Most  all  the  gangs  is  got  a  hole 
some'eres;"  and  Granger  ended  his  disclosure  with  a 
sort  of  squint  of  his  left  eye. 

"I've  just  been  thinking  about  getting  your  gang  a 
regular  meeting  place,"  said  Wilmot.  "You  boys 
find  one  to  suit  you,  and  I'll  get  it  for  you,  if  I  have 
to  buy  it." 

"But  I  say,  partner,"  exclaimed  Granger,  "that  talk 
o'  yourn  is  stunnin';"  and  he  surveyed  the  other  boys, 
who  plainly  shared  his  surprise. 

"I  mean  it,  though,"  added  Wilmot,  thinking  it 
worth  while  to  be  insistent. 

"I  reckon  we'll  jest  take  yer  offer,  partner,"  said 
Granger. 

"Only  we'll  have  to  look  about  a  bit  for  a  place," 
sagely  interposed  Granger's  lieutenant,  Sim  Phillips. 

"That  \vill  be  all  right,"  returned  Wilmot ;  "but  I 
want  to  offer  you  this  grove  for  next  Sunday  after- 
noon and  the  next  and  the  next  until  you  find  a  place. 
It's  yours  as  long  as  you  want  it." 

"But,  partner,  we  kids  can't,  walk  out  here  fer  our 
meetin's.  Hit's  six  miles,  an'  we  ain't  got  the  spends 
to  pay  the  puncher,"  objected  Granger. 

"Don't  let  that  trouble  you,"  said  Wilmot;  "I'll  pay 
the  freight." 

"You  will?"  cried  Granger,  and  the  other  boys 
joined  in  the  shout. 

"I  will  on  one  condition,"  explained  Wilmot,  "and 
that  is  that  I  may  come  with  you." 

The  gang  went  wild   at  this   announcement,   and, 
marching  around  after  Granger,  each  shook  the  hand 
of  Wilmot  as  a  sign  of  agreement, 
3 


34 


THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 


"I  am  going  to  ask  something  else,"  added  Wilmot 
when  the  circle  had  been  remade.  "I  want  to  join 
your  gang  and  be  a  member  with  you." 

The  boys  looked  at  Granger  and  then  at  one  an- 
other. That  was  an  unexpected  request;  it  had  to  be 
considered,  so  the  gang  withdrew  a  short  distance  and 
held  a  conversation  in  Ipw  tones.  Presently  they  re- 
turned, and  Granger  informed  the  applicant  that  they 
must  vote  on  his  request. 

"Very  well,"  he  said.  "I  want  to  come  in  just  as 
the  other  boys  did." 

Thereupon  the  gang  withdrew  again,  and  Granger, 
solemnly  laying  down  his  hat,  ordered  each  boy  to 
deposit  in  it  a  glass  or  a  stone  marble  according  to  his 
vote,  glass  being  for,  stone  against.  After  a  due  and 
legal  count,  Granger  reported  that  six  glass  marbles 
had  gone  into  the  hat  and  that,  therefore,  the  new 
applicant  had  been  elected  a  member  of  the  gang. 
There  was  another  round  of  handshaking  and  the 
boys  resumed  their  places  for  the  continuance  of  the 
powwow. 

"Next  Sunday  afternoon  at  four  o'clock,"  said  Wil- 
mot, "we  will  meet  at  Fountain  Square,  take  the  High- 
land car  again,  and  come  to  this  same  spot.  After 
we  have  held  our  meeting,  we  will  select  a  place  where 
the  gang  can  meet  in  secret.  We  must  also  have  a 
watchword  and  some  way  by  which  we  may  know 
one  another  and  to  keep  other  boys  from  getting  into 
our  meetings." 

"O,  we  fellers  has  got  'em,"  cried  Granger. 

"But  you  didn't  give  them  to  me,"  returned  Wilmot, 
feigning  to  be  surprised, 


THE  GANG.  35 

"But  they're  jest  boys'  doin's,"  deprecatingly  ex- 
plained the  leader. 

"But  I  am  a  boy  with  you,"  insisted  Wilmot — "a 
member  of  the  gang,  and  I  am  entitled  to  know  every 
secret  of  the  gang." 

"That's  so,  partner,"  declared  Granger  as  he  looked 
again  around  the  circle  as  though  asking  approval  of 
what  he  was  about  to  do.  The  approval  of  silence 
reassured  him.  "But  you'll  have  to  hoi'  up  yer  han' 
an'  say  it  like  the  rest  on  us,"  he  continued. 

Wilmot  answered  by  promptly  putting  up  his  right 
hand,  now  assured  that  he  was  about  to  be  put  in 
possession  of  the  most  awful  secret  of  the  gang. 
Granger  then  rattled  off  the  "oath,"  which  Wilmot  re- 
peated after  him  as  follows : 

By  the  horns  and  the  beard  of  the  Billy  Goat : 
I'll  lay  a  knife  against  my  throat; 
Seven  times  I'll  hang;  seven  times  I'll  drown, 
And  rot  to  dust  with  old  John  Brown, 
Before  I'll  tell  or  break  my  oath.       > 

Wilmot  could  not  repress  an  inward  smile  during  this 
"ordeal,"  but  the  five  boys  looking  on  preserved  a 
demeanor  of  solemn  and  respectful  silence. 

"That's  a  great  'oath,'  Granger,"  said  Wilmot. 
"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"Me  an'  a  feller  up  to  the  printin'  office  got  it  out 
of  a  book.  There  was  more'n  that  to  it ;  but  I  couldn't 
pack  hit  'round  in  my  noggin,"  frankly  confessed  the 
mogul  of  the  gang. 

"You  haven't  yet  given  me  the  signs,"  said  Wilmot 
after  having  got  his  fellow-gangsmen  completely  off 
their  guard. 


36  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

"There  ain't  but  two  on  'em,"  explained  Granger; 
"an'  the  first  one  is  this :  You  lays  yer  finger  over  yer 
mouth,  like  this,  an'  that  means :  'Don't  talk  about  the 
gang.'  The  other  one  is  this :  Yer  locks  yer  han's  be- 
hind yer  head,  like  this,  an'  that  means:  'The  fellers 
what's  aroun'  is  all  frien's.'  An'  now  that's  all." 

"And  so  I  am  now  a  member  of  the  gang  and  you 
boys  will  tell  me  everything  and  let  me  attend  all 
your  meetings,  will  you?"  asked  Wilmot. 

"That's  the  size  on  it,  partner;  yer  have  done  rode 
the  goat,"  declared  Granger. 

The  afternoon  sun  was  now  sunken  low  behind  the 
groves  and  hills  of  Applegate  Wood,  so  the  meeting 
was  dissolved;  and  the  gang,  under  the  direction  and 
patronage  of  its  newest  member,  was  again  loaded  on 
the  trolley  and  was  in  due  time  delivered  back  at  its 
starting  point  in  Fountain  Square. 


III. 

THE   MEETING   PLACE. 

THERE  was  an  unrecorded  history-making  in  the 
lives  of  six  boys  during  the  week  which  succeeded  the 
visit  of  Wilmot  and  his  confederates  to  the  Applegate 
Wood.  Each  boy  was  thinking  a  good  deal  quietly 
within  himself,  and  the  action  of  each  was  being  in- 
fluenced by  that  thinking.  Wilmot  had  not  only  pen- 
etrated the  mystery  of  a  typical  boys'  gang,  but  he  had 
succeeded  in  overlaying  that  mystery  with  a  greater. 
First  of  all,  his  motive  was  mysterious,  for  no  boy 
understands  exactly  why  a  young  man  of  Wilmot's 
good  manners  and  appearance  wants  to  spend  four 
or  five  shillings  every  Sunday  on  a  group  of  street 
gamins.  Besides,  Wilmot  had  hinted  at  various  pleas- 
ant and  occult  things,  and  these  hints  had  set  all  the 
boys  guessing  and  wondering.  Granger  and  Sim  had 
repeatedly  seen  each  boy  to  be  sure  of  his  state  of 
mind,  and  also  to  ascertain  if  the  way  was  certainly 
open  to  each  to  be  at  Fountain  Square  at  the  hour 
fixed  the  next  Sabbath  afternoon.  Also  Granger,  by 
request  of  Wilmot,  had  called  at  the  latter's  office  once 
or  twice  to  report. 

"You  are  sure  that  all  the  boys  will  be  there,  are 
you,  Granger?"  Wilmot  asked  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
second  interview  on  Saturday  afternoon. 

"You  bet  your  boots  they'll  be  there,  partner;  I've 
done  been  around  and  read  each  feller's  mark.  They'll 
be  there,"  was  Granger's  reply. 


38  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  each  one's  mark?"  asked 
Wilmot  a  little  mystified. 

"Why,  each  one  of  the  gang's  got  a  mark  what  he 
makes  for  the  other  fellers  when  he  can't  see  'em," 
explained  the  boy. 

"But  you  didn't  tell  me  about  that  when  I  joined," 
said  Wilmot. 

"Well,  now,  fer  a  fact;  that's  so,"  answered  Gran- 
ger, a  little  confused.  "But  I'll  do  it  right  now;" 
and  with  that  he  drew  two  bits  of  chalk  from  his 
pocket — one  white,  the  other  red.  "You  see,  partner," 
he  began  to  explain,  "the  gang  has  got  certain  places 
(we'll  show  'em  to  you  after  a  while)  where  we  makes 
marks  when  we  can't  go  to  the  meetin'  places  er  when 
anything  happens.  If  you  can't  come  to  the  place 
what's  fixed  fer  the  gang,  why,  you  takes  that  white 
chalk  and  makes  a  cross  on  the  gatepost  or  the  wall 
close  to  where  you  stays.  That  means  'King's  ex — 
I  can't  come ;'  then  with  the  red  chalk  you  writes  your 
letter  (that's  the  first  letter  of  your  name)  under  it. 
If  you  can  sure  come,  you  makes  a  bull's  eye  with  the 
white  chalk  and  then  puts  your  letter  under  it  in  red. 
All  the  boys  knows  what  that  means.  If  you'll  jest 
look  on  the  gatepost  of  the  baseball  park  as  you  comes 
down  the  avenoo  Sunday  afternoon,  you  kin  tell  ed- 
zactly  how  many  of  the  boys  will  be  waitin'  fer  you 
at  the  Fountain." 

"That  chalk  business  isn't  a  bad  idea,  Granger," 
said  Wilmot.  "I'll  use  the  chalk  myself." 

"You  musn't  let  no  feller  belongin'  to  another  gang 
see  you  doin'  it;  we  don't  want  'em  to  git  onto  us," 
cautioned  Granger. 


THE  MEETING  PLACE.  39 

Wilmot  promised  to  observe  due  caution,  and  so 
the  last  detail  for  the  meeting  was  settled. 

The  eventful  Sunday  afternoon  had  come,  and  Wil- 
mot was  again  sauntering  up  the  long  avenue.  Oppo- 
site the  baseball  park  he  halted  a  moment,  selected  a 
time  when  no  passers-by  were  in  sight,  then  walked 
across  the  way,  and  stood  before  the  undressed,  un- 
painted  posts  of  the  park  gate.  There,  sure  enough, 
were  six  tiny  white  chalk  circles  with  a  dot  in  the  cen- 
ter of  each,  and  underneath  each  a  red  chalk  letter. 

Every  boy  had  registered  his  sign  manual  and  had 
gone  to  the  tryst.  Quickly  making  a  circle  for  him- 
self and  writing  under  it  the  letter  "W,"  Wilmot 
pushed  on  to  the  Square,  when  a  pleasing  sight  met 
his  view.  There  were  his  fellow-gangsmen — all  of 
them — seated  together  on  the  steps  of  the  Fountain, 
and  each  one  a  picture  of  gentility.  There  was  not  a 
bat,  a  ball,  nor  a  marble  in  sight.  Every  face  had 
been  washed  and  every  head  carefully  combed.  There 
was  a  transformation  also  in  the  dress  of  the  party. 
There  was  not  a  bare  foot  in  the  group — even  Kinky's 
feet  were  shod  in  a  pair  of  shoes  which,  though  old, 
had  been  carefully  polished.  Each  boy  was  dressed  in 
a  clean  shirt;  and,  although  some  of  the  coats  were 
worn  and  faded,  they  had  been  brushed  clean  of  every 
vestige  of  dust. 

With  a  shout  the  group  greeted  Wilmot  and,  rising 
as  with  one  impulse,  gathered  about  him  for  the  hand- 
shake of  fellowship. 

The  trolley  ride  outward  was  in  striking  contrast 
with  the  one  of  the  Sabbath  before.  Some  of  the  boys 
were  nervous,  but  for  the  most  part  they  sat  quietly 


40  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

while  Wilmot  pointed  out  the  places  of  interest  in  the 
countryside  as  their  car  spun  musically  on  toward  the 
hills. 

Applegate  Wood  was  aglow  with  a  glory  of  summer 
when  the  seven  entered  into  its  quietness. 

"Will  you  boys  now  do  as  you  did  last  Sunday — 
take  an  hour  to  romp  and  play  ?"  asked  Wilmot. 

"No,"  said  Sim,  speaking  for  the  others.  "We 
want  you  to  go  with  us  for  a  long  walk.  It  seems 
that  you  can  see  the  leaves  better,  and  the  woods  look 
prettier  when  you  walk." 

This  seemed  to  meet  the  unanimous  wish  of  the 
party.  So  Wilmot,  with  Kinky  at  his  side,  put  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  party  and  led  off  into  a  path  that 
wound  in  and  out  of  the  leafy  wonderland.  Many  a 
time  Wilmot  had  when  a  boy  strolled  and  loitered  in 
this  same  wood.  He  knew  every  rod  of  it,  and  did 
not  lead  aimlessly.  Up  and  up  the  wooded  slopes  he 
climbed,  sometimes  lifting  Kinky  off  his  feet  to  make 
the  ascent  easier  for  him,  the  other  boys  trudging  and 
laughing  behind.  At  last,  under  the  brow  of  a  tall 
cliff  that  shook  its  ferns  and  reeds  above,  as  a  giant 
might  his  shock  of  shaggy  hair,  they  halted  before  the 
mouth  of  a  cave,  a  wide  chamber  under  a  ledge  of 
slaty  rock.  The  floor  of  it  was  dry  and  smooth,  only 
there  were  scattered  about  a  few  broken  bowlders  that 
made  fair  seats  for  the  party  when  they  had  entered 
in.  The  light  came  in  in  sufficient  fullness  to  make 
it  seem  much  like  a  home  chamber.  The  interior  was 
cool  and  refreshing,  and  an  air  of  mystery  and  sug- 
gestion clung  about  it  from  roof  to  floor. 

"We  will  first  explore  the  cave,"  said  Wilmot,  "and 


THE  ^MEETING  PLACE.  41 

then  we'll  sit  down  and  have  a  good  chat  together." 
The  suggestion  set  the  boys  wild.  The  cavern  was 
not  large,  but  had  several  dark  nooks  and  chambers 
which  by  means  of  a  bit  of  candle  which  Wilmot  had 
thoughtfully  provided  were  fully  illuminated  and  stud- 
ied. In  one  they  found  a  few  charred  sticks  where 
there  had  once  been  kindled  a  fire. 

"I'll  bet  robbers  did  it,"  cried  Granger. 

"I'll  bet,"  chimed  in  several  others. 

"Like  as  not,"  assented  Wilmot,  which  made  half 
a  dozen  eyes  start  out  in  the  semidarkness  like  stars 
from  the  twilight.  The  situation  was  tense  with  in- 
terest. The  place  suited  the  troglodyte  instinct  of  the 
gangsmen. 

"O,  Mr.  Wilmot,"  cried  Sim,  "this  is  the  place  for 
our  gang  to  meet."  Like  fire  in  stubble  the  suggestion 
caught  into  a  conflagration,  and  the  shouts  from  the 
other  boys  made  the  stony  roof  ring. 

"That's  just  what  it  is  to  be,"  said  Wilmot.  "I  have 
secured  it  for  our  use  as  long  as  we  want  it.  We 
will  have  it  fixed  up  to  suit  our  taste.  It  is  our  very 
own — our  castle  to  be  kept  against  all  comers." 

Again  and  louder  than  before  the  hurrahs  broke 
forth. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  enthusiasm  of  the  com- 
pany had  sufficiently  subsided  to  permit  of  a  quiet 
sitting.  When  all  were  seated,  Wilmot  said:  "I  sup- 
pose the  next  thing  is  a  good  story,  is  it?" 

"That's  what  we  fellers  is  expectin',"  replied  Gran- 
ger for  the  gang. 

"All  right,"  returned  Wilmot.  "What  shall  it  be 
about?" 


42  THE  GANG  OP  SIX. 

"About  soldiers,"  confidently  ordered  Sim;  and  to 
this  there  was  no  dissent. 

"Very  well,"  said  Wilmot ;  "our  story  shall  be  about 
soldiers — good  soldiers — who  long  ago  served  a  good 
King.  The  King's  name  was  Arthur,  and  the  sol- 
diers were  called  knights.  These  knights  were  brave 
men  who  had  sworn  to  fight  for  the  King  in  all  his 
wars,  to  be  obedient  to  the  King's  command,  to  be 
pure  in  life  and  thought,  to  reverence  the  Holy  Christ, 
and  to  give  their  swords  to  right  the  wrongs  of  the 
world.  When  each  took  his  oath,  he  kneeled  before 
the  King,  who,  taking  his  sword,  a  thing  of  wondrous 
beauty  with  jewels  in  its  hilt,  smote  with  the  flat  of 
it  him  that  would  be  a  knight  and  said:  'Arise,  Sir 
Knight!'  And  after  that  he  was  a  knight  and  ate  at 
the  King's  table  and  fought  in  the  King's  wars.  Once 
upon  a  time,"  continued  Wilmot,  "there  came  to  the 
King  a  shepherd  boy  who  desired  to  be  made  a  knight, 
that  he  might  serve  the  King  in  arms.  Said  the  King 
to  him:  'Do  you  know  what  it  is  to  be  made  a  knight?' 
'I  do,  my  lord  King,'  answered  the  shepherd  lad ;  'for 
she  who  told  me  I  must  be  a  knight  and  must  come 
and  kneel  before  the  King  taught  me  concerning  all 
the  noble  things  which  the  King's  knights  are  doing 
and  must  do?'  'And  who  was  it,'  asked  the  King, 
'who  taught  you  so?'  'It  was  one  whom  I  did  not 
see,'  frankly  confessed  the  boy,  'and  whether  she  were 
fairy  or  spirit  I  cannot  say;  but  that  she  is  fair  I  do 
not  doubt,  and  her  voice  was  like  music  while  she 
talked  to  me.  She  said,  moreover,  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  a  great  lord,  that  her  sisters  were  called 
Purity  and  Faith;  but  her  own  name  she  could  not 


THE  ^MEETING  PLACE.  43 

then  tell,  but  that  I  might  learn  it  later.'  'How  hap- 
pened it  that  you  should  hear  so  much  and  yet  not  see 
her  who  had  spoken  to  you?'  asked  the  King.  'It  was 
when  I  had  led  the  sheep  to  a  pleasant  walk  and  was 
resting  under  a  hawthorn  white  with  the  bloom,  and 
the  voice  seemed  to  come  from  the  midst  of  the 
branches  that  exhaled  a  most  pleasant  breath.  There- 
upon, my  lord  King,  I  arose  and  came,  and  will  no 
more  return  to  keep  sheep;  but  would  fain  ride  with 
the  knights,  for  the  sister  of  Purity  and  Faith  hath 
assured  me  that  I  shall  prosper  doing  the  King's  pleas- 
ure.' But  the  King  said:  'Thou  art  well-favored  and 
willing,  but  too  young  and  tender  by  far  to  wear 
armor  or  endure  the  fatigues  and  onset  of  battle;  but 
since  thy  heart  is  filled  with  cravings  thou  shalt  vow 
a  vow  and  ride  as  a  squire  with  a  noble  knight.  A 
year  and  a  day  thou  shalt  ride,  and  then  if  thou  art 
proven  in  obedience  thou  mayest  be  made  a  knight.' 
Right  glad  was  the  shepherd  lad  for  so  much  favor 
from  the  King,  and  he  vowed  a  vow  to  obey  in  all 
things,  and  so  rode  a  year  and  a  day  to  be  squire  to 
a  noble  knight  who  went  in  bright  armor  and  carried 
a  sword  and  lance.  And  the  name  of  the  knight  was 
Sir  Christopher,  which  is  Christ  helper;  and  to  his 
squire  he  gave  the  name  of  Hermas,  which  is  'Swift 
to  do,'  though  his  name  before  had  been  but  Yarkin. 
Now,  while  Sir  Christopher  and  his  squire  waited  at 
the  King's  gate,  the  latter  fresh  from  his  vow-taking, 
there  came  a  cry  that  three  caitiff  knights  had  set  upon 
the  castle  of  one  of  the  King's  high  lords,  and  had 
shut  the  master,  his  yeomen,  and  his  two  fair  daugh- 
ters up  in  the  castle  and  were  besieging  it.  It  was 


44  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

then  that  Sir  Christopher  obtained  leave  of  the  King 
and  rode  away  to  the  relief  of  his  fellow-knight,  and 
his  new-made  squire  rode  with  him.  As  they  passed 
down  the  King's  highway  and  fell  into  a  strange  and 
little-frequented  path,  the  knight  began  to  say  to  his 
squire  that  they  were  drawing  near  to  the  castle  be- 
sieged, and  must  look  well  for  the  caitiff  knights,  who, 
though  they  were  but  three,  were  yet  counted  bold 
and  watchful  as  they  were  strong  and  cruel.  He  also 
taught  the  squire  that  because  his  new  name  meant 
'Swift  to  do'  he  must  on  no  account  fail  to  execute 
every  charge  given  him,  to  the  uttermost  of  every 
command.  This  the  squire  promised  to  do,  and  there- 
upon they  were  passing  abreast  of  the  forge  of  a 
smith.  'We  dismount  here/  said  the  knight,  'for  the 
approach  to  the  castle  is  steep  and  stony,  and  our 
horses  will  have  much  to  do  to  keep  their  feet.  This 
smith  shall  make  their  shoes  secure  upon  their  hoofs.' 
While  the  smith  was  making  the  shoes  fast  upon  the 
feet  of  the  two  palfreys,  the  knight  asked  concerning 
the  castle  and  the  caitiff  knights;  but  the  smith,  a 
surly  man  with  beard  as  black  and  taggy  as  the  soot 
on  the  smithy  rafter,  said: 

'I  know  nor  friends  nor  foes, 
Nor  yet  beyond  this  forge  my  asking  goes.' 

The  knight  made  no  reply  to  these  surly  words,  but 
the  squire  said  within  himself:  'Here  also  is  a  caitiff; 
and  when  I  am  a  knight,  he  shall  answer  to  me  for 
this  insolent  speech.'  The  squire  noticed  with  secret 
delight  that  on  the  walls  of  the  smithy  were  hung 
various  pieces  of  armor,  and  some  weapons  also.  He 


THE  MEETING  PLACE.  45 

thought  how  easily,  if  necessity  pressed,  a  squire 
might  be  made  into  a  knight  in  that  same  smithy ;  and 
while  he  pondered  the  thought  his  master  mounted 
his  steed,  and,  he  following,  the  two  rode  silently 
away.  After  traversing  a  path  that  wound  up  steep 
and  rugged  hills,  the  two  came  in  sight  of  the  be- 
sieged castle.  Three  huge  tents  were  spread  before 
the  castle  gate.  Two  of  the  caitiff  knights  slept  each 
in  his  tent,  and  the  third,  a  very  giant,  was  on  watch. 
When  Sir  Christopher  and  his  squire  came  near  to 
the  castle  wall,  the  knight  blew  a  long  blast  on  his 
horn  and  shouted  aloud.  Instantly  the  single  watch- 
man on  the  wall  answered,  and  thereupon  the  lord  of 
the  castle  and  his  besieged  yeomen  rushed  down  to 
the  gate  and,  opening  it,  issued  forth,  so  that  the 
caitiff  knight  who  was  on  guard  while  his  brothers 
slept  was  caught  before  and  behind  and  was  slain  by 
Sir  Christopher  at  the  first  onset.  The  caitiffs,  awak- 
ing suddenly  out  of  sleep  and  seeing  their  brother 
dead,  fled  without  their  armor  or  weapons.  So  there 
was  joy  in  the  castle,  and  the  lord  of  the  castle  and 
his  two  fair  daughters  that  were  shut  up  with  him 
came  down  to  greet  Sir  Christopher  and  his  squire; 
and  then  it  was  that  the  squire  learned  that  the  two 
daughters  were  named  Purity  and  Faith.  Thereupon 
he  said:  'There  is  yet  a  third  sister,  daughter  of  my 
lord  of  this  castle.'  And  they  answered:  'There  is, 
and  she  is  the  youngest,  but  is  away.'  But  they  told 
not  her  name,  and  the  squire,  perceiving  that  her  name 
must  not  be  told,  asked  no  more,  but  kept  his  thoughts 
in  his  own  bosom.  After  this  Sir  Christopher  and  the 
lord  of  the  castle  rode  swiftly  on  to  overtake  the  two 


46  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

caitiff  knights  who  had  escaped,  and  left  Hermas,  the 
squire,  with  the  yeomen  to  guard  the  castle;  but  the 
armor  of  the  three  caitiff  knights  they  cast  into  the 
moat,  for  these  three  brothers  were  so  huge  in  size 
that  no  knight  in  Arthur's  court  might  make  shift  to 
fight  in  it  withal.  The  two  knights  were  scarcely 
more  than  gone  when  the  squire,  sighing  within  him- 
self, said:  'Why  was  I  so  dull  as  not  to  see  before 
what  I  now  see  so  plainly?  The  caitiff  knights  have 
gone  to  the  smithy,  and  there  await  the  making  of  new 
armor.  My  lord  of  the  castle  and  Sir  Christopher 
pursue  toward  the  sunrise  while  these  are  gone  toward 
the  sunset.  O  that  I  were  not  bound  by  a  vow  to  obey 
the  letter  of  my  master's  words,  I  should  take  a  yeo- 
man with  me  and  have  these  caitiffs  in  chains  before 
my  master's  return !'  So  for  his  vow's  sake  he  re- 
strained his  desire.  At  sunsetting  the  knights  returned 
empty-handed.  Then  it  was  that  Hermas  begged  the 
leave  of  his  master  to  have  his  sword  and  ride  with  a 
retainer  to  the  house  of  the  smith.  'For,'  said  he,  'I 
remembered  me  something  to-day  of  what  I  noticed 
in  the  forge,  and  a  question  concerning  it  may  be  of 
service  to  me  many  days  hence.'  And  because  he  was 
importunate  the  knight  consented,  and  the  lord  of  the 
castle  dispatched  a  yeoman  to  bear  him  company.  Very 
soon  thereafter,  but  after  the  darkness  was  deep  fallen, 
the  squire  and  the  yeoman  arrived  at  the  forge,  where- 
on roared  the  bellows,  and  the  smith  made  great  haste 
of  the  work  he  was  about.  Peering  through  the  open 
door,  the  squire  made  out  to  see  that  the  two  caitiff 
knights  were  cowering  in  a  corner  of  the  smithy  and 
that  the  smith  was  making  great  lengths  of  armor 


THE  MEETING  PLACE.  47 

for  their  limbs.  At  a  word  the  yeoman  followed  the 
squire  into  the  smithy,  and  with  drawn  swords  they 
set  upon  the  caitiffs,  took  them,  and  compelled  the 
smith  to  forge  chains  for  their  limbs.  This  being 
done,  the  squire  paid  the  smith's  charges,  saying: 
'Since  friend  and  foe  are  alike  to  thee,  this  will  cause 
you  no  grief.'  The  smith  smiled  grimly,  but  took  the 
coin,  and  was  turning  about  to  go.  'Hold !'  cried  the 
squire;  'you  shall  take  a  new  order  for  the  armor 
which  to  fit  upon  these  caitiffs  you  have  been  at  so 
great  pains.  You  shall  fit  to  my  own  limbs,  allow- 
ing the  growth  of  a  year,  and  at  that  time,  less  one 
day,  I  will  come  to  pay  the  costs  and  take  mine  own.' 
At  this  the  smith  smiled  grimly  again,  and  the  squire 
and  yeoman  rode  away  with  their  prisoners.  At  the 
castle  there  was  great  wonder,  as  great  joy  also,  when 
the  youthful  squire  and  the  yeoman  returned.  The 
two  fair  sisters  of  the  castle  came  and  made  a  cheerful 
evening  for  their  deliverers;  the  lord  of  the  castle 
blessed  both  the  knight  and  his  squire  and  gave  them 
appropriate  gifts.  Sir  Christopher  left  the  caitiffs  with 
his  brother  knight  to  be  punished  as  he  deemed  right, 
and  on  the  morrow  he  and  his  squire  rode  on  to  join 
the  King  and  his  other  knights  in  war.  So  it  was 
that  Hermas  the  Shepherd  rode  a  year  and  a  day  as 
the  squire  of  Sir  Christopher,  and  learned  obedience. 
At  the  end  of  that  war,  when  the  King  returned  from 
victory,  he  made  the  squire  a  knight,  and  on  the  self- 
same day  the  new-made  knight  rode  to  the  forge  of 
the  smith  and  clothed  himself  with  the  armor  which 
had  been  designed  for  the  greater  of  the  giants.  It 
also  happened  that  he  found  the  smith  a  changed  man, 


48  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

for  he  had  heard  the  story  of  the  shepherd  squire, 
and  had  gone  about  himself  to  learn  obedience  and  to 
be  loyal  to  the  King  and  his  blameless  knights.  Be- 
ing now  a  knight  in  armor,  and  hailed  as  Sir  Hermas, 
he  that  had  been  Yarkin  the  Shepherd  rode  again  to 
the  castle  where  dwelt  the  fair  sisters,  if  haply  the 
youngest  of  the  house  might  be  returned ;  for  he  knew 
the  same  must  be  fairer  than  all  women  besides,  and 
he  had  long  had  a  purpose  to  woo  her.  But  when  he 
was  come  and  made  inquiry  like  a  noble  knight,  a  no- 
ble and  truthful  answer  was  given  him,  and  the  elder 
sister,  speaking,  said:  'Sir  Knight,  there  are  indeed 
but  two  daughters  of  our  house,  and  this  third  of 
which  you  heard  was  only  such  as  seemed  a  sister  to 
us  and  whom  we  cherished  as  such,  for  how  should 
Purity  and  Faith  be  without  Obedience!"  This,  then, 
was  the  secret  of  the  third  sister.  The  shepherd  lad 
had  heard  the  voice  of  obedience  calling  him,  and  it 
was  this  obedience  whom  the  squire  had  worthily  loved 
and  whom  the  knight  had  sought  to  woo.  He  could 
not  be  sad,  therefore,  because  he  had  lost  an  unseen 
bride,  but  rejoiced  because  he  had  gained  forever  the 
favor  of  one  whom  he  knew." 


IV. 

THE  SQUIRE'S  DEGREE. 

WHEN  the  story  of  the  shepherd  squire  had  been 
told,  the  boys  indulged  in  no  noisy  demonstrations, 
but  sat  thoughtfully  looking  at  Wilmot.  The  moral 
of  the  story  had  appealed  to  them,  and  that  without 
the  usual  exhortation.  Something  had  opened  their 
ears  to  hear.  It  was  evident,  too,  that  each  boy  had 
interpreted  the  story  in  a  way  peculiar  to  his  own 
moral  and  intellectual  sense.  Divining  this,  Wilmot 
quickly  utilized  the  moment's  opportunity  by  saying: 
"Each  boy  in  the  gang  will  now  tell  me  what  he  thinks 
of  the  shepherd  squire." 

"I  wonder  if  that  little  shepherd  feller  didn't  have 
no  ma  nor  pa  to  work  for,"  suggested  Mack  Pooley, 
the  boy  who  seldom  had  a  word  to  say,  but  who  by 
this  speech  betrayed  the  best  that  was  in  him. 

"Don't  you  think,  though,"  replied  Wilmot,  "that 
his  father  and  mother  would  have  been  pleased  to  give 
him  to  the  King  to  become  a  noble  knight,  even  if  they 
had  to  work  the  harder  for  his  going?" 

"I  s'pose  they  would,"  was  as  emphatic  a  reply  as 
Mack  could  make,  his  horizon  being  bounded  as  it 
was  by  the  selfishness  of  a  father  who  indulged  him- 
self in  indolence  while  for  a  wage  he  sold  his  chil- 
dren to  the  slavery  of  the  cotton  mills. 

A   gleam   of   dreamy   light  kindled   in   the   eye   of 
Kinky  as  he  said :  "I  just  wished,  Mr.  Wilmot,  that  I 
could  be  a  shepherd  boy  and  hear  a  voice  too." 
4 


50  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

Wilmot  could  make  no  reply  at  the  moment  to  this 
not  surprising  sentiment  of  his  little  favorite.  He 
only  laid  his  hand  on  the  curly  head  and  waited  to 
hear  from  the  other  boys. 

Sim  Phillips  and  Tommy  Biles  had  almost  identical 
notions  about  the  young  squire,  and  centered  their 
enthusiasm  on  his  courage  and  his  bold  capture  of  the 
caitiff  knights.  Jimmy  Glenn,  the  widow's  son,  was 
desirous  to  know  how  big  the  squire  "was  after  he 
had  growed  a  year  an'  a  day."  But  Granger,  the  last 
to  speak,  had  his  own  view  of  the  case,  and  bluntly 
expressed  his  contempt  for  "them  two  easy  marks,  the 
giant  fellers  that  let  a  sheep-smellin'  kid  an'  a  nigger 
sop  'em  up  like  that." 

Wilmot  could  not  repress  a  smile  at  the  quaint  crit- 
icism of  the  gang's  leader,  but  he  said :  "Well,  Granger, 
there  is  something  in  what  you  say.  The  caitiff 
knights,  though  huge  in  body,  were  really  cowards, 
and  never  fought  except  when  they  could  set  upon 
weaker  knights  or  could  find  a  castle  undefended.  In 
that  they  were  like  the  evil  thoughts  and  bad  habits 
that  often  come  to  boys  and  to  weak  men.  They  can- 
not fight  with  the  strong,  but  they  seek  out  young 
and  weak  people  that  they  may  destroy  them.  Sim 
and  Tommy  are  right  in  admiring  the  courage  of  the 
squire;  for  if  he  had  not  been  brave  and  quick  to  act, 
the  giants  would  have  got  them  new  armor  and 
swords.  They  could  then  have  set  upon  the  castle, 
killed  the  guards,  and  murdered  those  within  the  castle 
while  they  slept.  You  remember  that  the  squire  loved 
the  unseen  sister  of  Faith  and  Purity,  whose  name  he 
afterwards  knew  was  Obedience.  You  remember,  too, 


THE  SQUIRE'S  DEGREE.  51 

that  Sir  Christopher,  'the  Christ  helper/  had  called 
his  squire  'Swift  to  do/  so  he  could  not  fail  to  obey 
every  command  given  him,  nor  wait  to  act  when  he 
knew  where  his  duty  was.  I  am  glad  that  Jimmy 
thought  to  ask  how  much  the  squire  had  grown  during 
his  year  and  a  day ;  for  when  we  go  about  to  do  great 
things,  we  should  all  the  time  grow  stronger  and  come 
quickly  to  manhood  in  the  doing  of  them.  Kinky  is 
right,  too,"  continued  Wilmot  after  a  pause,  "in  desir- 
ing to  hear  a  voice  like  the  one  which  spoke  to  the 
little  shepherd;  but  one  does  not  need  to  become  a 
shepherd  to  hear  that  voice.  You  may  hear  Obe- 
dience speaking  anywhere — in  town  or  in  country.  We 
can  all  hear  it  at  this  very  moment  and  in  this  cave. 
Many,  very  many  people  have  heard  it." 

"What  does  it  sound  like,  Mr.  Wilmot?"  asked 
Tommy  Biles,  very  plainly  showing  doubt  in  both 
face  and  voice. 

"O,  it  sounds  very  differently  to  different  people; 
but  when  you  hear  it  you  nearly  always  know  what 
it  is,"  replied  Wilmot. 

A  silence  followed  this,  and  a  look  of  soulful  inter- 
est settled  upon  six  boyish  faces.  In  the  silence  Wil- 
mot drew  from  his  pocket  a  small  leather-bound,  well- 
thumbed  volume,  with  every  page  of  which  he  was 
familiar,  and  said:  "If  you  will  move  over  into  the 
light  nearer  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  I  will  read  you  the 
story  of  a  boy  who  once  heard  this  voice." 

Quickly  but  quietly  the  company  moved  to  new 
seats;  and  when  all  were  again  settled  down,  Wilmot, 
without  saying  what  book  he  read  from,  turned  the 
pages  and,  turning  to  a  place  previously  marked,  read 


52  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

these  words:  "And  the  child  Samuel  ministered  unto 
the  Lord  before  Eli.  .  .  .  And  it  came  to  pass  at 
that  time,  when  Eli  was  laid  down  in  his  place,  and 
his  eyes  began  to  wax  dim,  that  he  could  not  see ;  and 
ere  the  lamp  of  God  went  out  in  the  temple  of  the 
Lord,  where  the  ark  of  God  was,  and  Samuel  was  laid 
down  to  sleep ;  that  the  Lord  called  Samuel :  and 
he  answered,  Here  am  I.  And  he  ran  unto  Eli, 
and  said,  Here  am  I ;  for  thou  calledst  me.  And  he 
said,  I  called  not;  lie  down  again.  And  he  went  and 
lay  down.  And  the  Lord  called  yet  again,  Samuel. 
And  Samuel  arose  and  went  to  Eli,  and  said,  Here 
am  I;  for  thou  didst  call  me.  And  he  answered,  I 
called  not,  my  son;  lie  down  again.  Now  Samuel  did 
not  yet  know  the  Lord,  neither  was  the  word  of  the 
Lord  yet  revealed  unto  him.  And  the  Lord  called 
Samuel  again  the  third  time.  And  he  arose  and  went 
to  Eli,  and  said,  Here  am  I;  for  thou  didst  call  me. 
And  Eli  perceived  that  the  Lord  had  called  the  child. 
Therefore  Eli  said  unto  Samuel,  Go,  lie  down:  and 
it  shall  be,  if  he  call  thee,  that  thou  shalt  say,  Speak, 
Lord;  for  thy  servant  heareth.  So  Samuel  went  and 
lay  down  in  his  place.  And  the  Lord  came,  and  stood, 
and  called  as  at  other  times,  Samuel,  Samuel.  Then 
Samuel  answered,  Speak ;  for  thy  servant  heareth." 

Each  of  the  boys  had,  in  one  way  or  another,  heard 
inattentively  the  stories  of  the  Bible ;  but  no  shorn  and 
fasting  catechumen  ever  listened  more  attentively  to 
instructions,  read  or  oral,  than  did  that  once  motley 
gang  of  street  gamins  to  the  reading  of  their  self- 
appointed  teacher. 

When  the   reading  was  over,   Wilmot   closed   the 


THE  SQUIRE'S  DEGREE.  53 

Book,  and  said :  "Shall  we  not  now  listen  together  and 
see  if  we  may  not  hear  the  voice  ?" 

"Sure,"  returned  Granger,  without  the  slightest 
show  of  hesitation;  and  the  other  boys  consented,  for 
the  whole  company  was  under  the  spell  of  the  reading. 
By  the  space  of  at  least  two  minutes  there  was  silence. 
No  sound  could  be  heard  except  the  dripping  of  water 
drops  from  the  brow  of  the  cliff  down  past  the  mouth 
of  the  cave.  Now  and  then  the  cry  of  a  locust  came 
from  the  grove  without ;  otherwise  the  silence  was  com- 
plete. Seriousness  deepened  upon  the  face  of  each  boy. 
Kinky,  nestling  close  up  under  Wilmot's  arm,  said: 
"I  heard  it,  Mr.  Wilmot."  "So  did  I,"  added  two  or 
three  others.  "I  ain't  dead  sure,  but  I  think  I  must 
'a'  heard  it,  too,"  came  in  Granger.  "I  heard  some- 
thin',  I  don't  know  what,"  said  Tommy,  being  the  last 
and  true  to  the  character  of  that  disciple  for  whom 
he  was  named. 

"What  did  the  voice  sound  like,  Kinky?"  asked 
Wilmot. 

"O,  it  didn't  sound  like  nothin',  sir ;  it  was  inside  o' 
me,  an'  I  couldn't  hear  what  it  was  like,"  said  Kinky. 

Some  of  the  boys  were  doubtful  as  to  where  the 
voice  was,  but  were  sure  that  it  was  inside  the  cave, 
and  that  it  was  so  "weensy  you  couldn't  hardly  hear 
it" 

"How  did  it  sound  to  you,  Granger?"  asked  Wil- 
mot of  the  leader. 

"It  was  like  when  I  sleeps  by  myself  in  the  big  room 
on  the  third  floor  of  the  printin'  office  and  wakes  up 
at  night  and  hears  the  clock  a-strikin'  midnight,"  said 
Granger. 


54  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

It  was  unbelievable  to  Wilmot  himself  that  he  should 
have  attained  in  so  short  a  time  such  mastery  over 
unpromising  disciples.  He  had  meant  to  reach  their 
confidence  by  a  circuitous  route,  but  the  one  on  which 
he  had  fallen  had  proved  a  direct  one.  He  had  hoped 
to  secure  response  by  adopting  methods  suited  to  each 
boy,  but  had  invested  the  camp  at  one  stride.  Such 
is  the  boy  nature  that  it  must  be  taken  unawares. 
The  frontal  attack  is  at  once  suspected,  and  is  gen- 
erally resisted.  It  is  the  flanking  movement  that  suc- 
ceeds, though  it  were  led  by  a  piper  or  a  harlequin. 
Once  within  the  works,  you  may,  with  only  a  show 
of  caution,  lead  in  what  terms  you  will.  Perceiving 
that  his  plans  were  unexpectedly  advanced,  Wilmot 
said,  addressing  the  boys:  "I  have  now  a  great  secret 
to  tell  you ;  I  was  sent  to  you  with  it.  Would  you  like 
to  hear  it?" 

The  response  left  no  doubt  as  to  what  the  gang 
wished,  nor  any  doubt  as  to  the  ripeness  of  the  time 
for  telling  it. 

"The  secret  is  this,"  continued  Wilmot;  "there  is  a 
great  King  who  wants  noble  knights  to  serve  him; 
knights  who  reverence  the  holy  Christ,  who  have  clean 
hands,  and  who  think  pure  thoughts,  speaking  only 
pure  words.  These  knights  the  King  wants  to  help 
him  right  the  wrongs  of  the  world.  But  every  one 
who  would  become  such  a  knight  must  first  become  a 
squire  like  Hermas,  and  thus  learn  obedience.  How 
many  of  you  would  like  to  become  such  a  squire?" 

There  was  instantly  a  show  of  six  hands  in  the  light 
that  sifted  through  the  ferns  and  beech  branches  shad- 
owing the  high  cliff  side  in  the  Applegate  Wood.  Wil- 


THE  SQUIRE'S  DEGREE.  55 

mot  then  took  from  his  pocket  a  pencil  and  wrote  upon 
a  note  leaf  in  his  Bible  these  words :  "This  is  my  vow : 
I  will  live  a  faithful  squire  to  every  true  knight  and 
helper  of  my  Lord  and  King  the  Christ.  I  will  be 
obedient  to  the  word  of  the  King,  and  serve  in  little 
things  until  he  shall  call  me  to  serve  in  greater 
things." 

When  Wilmot  had  finished  the  writing,  he  took  six 
shilling  pieces  from  his  purse  and  said:  "Long  ago, 
when  a  knight  would  make  a  squire,  he  put  a  piece  of 
money  into  his  hand  as  a  pledge ;  the  squire  then  took 
his  vow  and  the  two  rode  away  together."  Wilmot 
thereupon  laid  a  shilling  into  each  boy's  hand,  saying: 
"It  is  a  pledge  to  obedience,  and  it  is  to  be  kept  by 
each  boy  until  he  becomes  a  knight,  when  he  may 
give  it  into  the  hand  of  his  own  squire."  After  this, 
beginning  at  Granger,  each  boy  took  the  vow  which 
Wilmot  had  written. 

When  they  were  again  seated  in  a  circle  as  before, 
Wilmot  said:  "Every  squire  who  rides  with  a  knight 
wears  a  sash  to  show  that  he  is  not  a  clown.  When 
we  return  next  Sabbath,  I  will  have  for  each  boy  a 
sash  of  blue  silk,  with  the  outline  of  a  book  worked 
in  white  upon  it.  This  book  will  stand  for  the  com- 
mandment which  we  have  all  promised  as  squires  to 
obey." 

When  the  boys  heard  of  this  sash,  they  were  more 
than  ever  pleased,  and  asked  many  questions  as  to 
what  it  was  and  what  it  meant.  What  Wilmot  told 
them  only  increased  their  desire  to  see  the  next  Sab- 
bath afternoon. 

"But  ain't  we  going  to  have  some  swords  and  a 


56  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

flag?"  asked  Sim,  who  had  a  more  correct  idea  of 
knight-errantry  than  any  of  the  others. 

"We  shall  when  we  get  to  be  knights,"  answered 
Wilmot. 

"An'  when'll  that  be,  partner  ?"  queried  Granger. 

''I  trust  very  soon,"  returned  the  other;  "maybe  in 
a  month;  and  that  leads  me,"  he  continued,  "to  say 
that  since  we  are  to  make  a  castle  of  our  cave  we 
should  give  it  a  name.  What  shall  we  call  it  ?" 

"You  name  it,"  shouted  the  boys  almost  in  chorus. 

"We'll  call  it  the  Castle  of  Arms,"  said  Wilmot ;  "for 
when  we  are  made  knights  together,  we  shall  make 
it  a  place  to  keep  our  swords,  our  banner,  and  all 
the  other  things  that  may  belong  to  us."  And  so 
it  was  then,  and  ever  thereafter,  the  "Castle  of 
Arms." 

"Now  also,"  continued  Wilmot,  "we  must  have  a 
warder  of  the  castle." 

"What's  a  warder?"  asked  several  at  once. 

"A  warder  of  the  castle,"  explained  Wilmot,  "is 
the  one  who  keeps  the  gate  to  prevent  anybody,  knight 
or  squire,  from  coming  in  without  the  password.  He 
also  takes  care  of  the  banner,  the  swords,  and  other 
things.  Who  shall  be  our  warder?" 

"Let's  vote,"  called  out  Sim;  and,  that  being  agree- 
able, they  were  about  to  proceed  to  a  ballot,  when  it 
was  discovered  that  there  was  not  a  marble  in  the  com- 
pany. The  formal  course  of  voting  being  off,  the  boys 
began  to  shout,  "Granger,  Granger!"  and  on  a  show 
of  hands  it  was  discovered  that  there  were  five  votes 
for  the  gang's  leader.  This  being  settled,  Wilmot 
said:  "The  watchword  of  the  castle  will  be  'Obedi- 


THE  SQUIRE'S  DEGREE.  57 

ence.'  Nobody  must  pass  in  or  out  without  giving 
this  word  to  the  warder." 

After  this  the  boys  went  out,  and,  with  Wilmot 
acting  as  warder,  each  boy  took  his  turn  at  entering, 
to  see  if  he  knew  the  password  and  how  to  use  it.  By 
the  time  the  last  one  had  returned  the  sun  was  sink- 
ing low,  and  Wilmot  said:  "We  must  soon  be  going 
homeward,  but  before  we  leave  our  castle  we  should 
decide  what  we  are  to  call  ourselves.  The  noble 
knights  that  used  to  fight  for  their  king,  when  they 
banded  together,  called  themselves  a  league.  Shall  we 
not  call  ourselves  by  the  same  name?" 

"Partner,"  called  out  Granger,  "this  here  used  to  be 
a  gang;  but  we're  a-gwine  to  call  her  jest  what  you 
want  it  called.  Me  an'  Sim  has  been  the  bosses,  an' 
hit's  all  right  with  the  other  boys.  If  you  says  she's 
a  league,  that's  the  way  she  goes — she's  a  league." 

And  it  was  that  way,  and  the  gang  of  street  Arabs 
was  transformed  into  the  "Squires'  League,"  every 
member  of  which  meant  some  day  to  become  a  knight. 
Twilight  was  falling  in  the  cave  long  before  its  time, 
for  through  the  parted  tree  branches  and  far  down  the 
ferny  hillsides  one  might  see  broad  spaces  of  fading 
sunshine  and  on  the  distant  fields  a  suggestion  of  after- 
glow. Standing  up  a  moment  in  this  temple  light  of 
the  cave,  Wilmot  said :  "Now  we  are  going  down  from 
our  meeting  place  with  our  own  secret  in  our  hearts. 
We  are  to  live  true  squires  of  obedience  all  this  week. 
The  true  squire  speaks  gently,  like  the  knight  he  would 
be.  He  speaks  only  pure  words,  and  always  only  the 
truth.  He  is  not  quick  to  be  angry.  He  is  honest. 
He  is  courteous  to  the  old  and  to  the  weak.  He  stud- 


58  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

ies  every  day  to  know  the  command  of  the  King,  that 
he  may  keep  it.  He  is  cheerful  and  happy  because 
of  his  secret,  and  his  secret  no  man  knows.  Shall  we 
not  before  we  leave  our  castle  ask  the  King  who  sees 
us  all  the  time  to  help  us  keep  our  vows  to  be  squires 
of  obedience?" 

A  silence  which  meant  the  full  consent  of  six  young 
hearts  followed  Wilmot's  suggestion.  A  Presence  un- 
seen but  felt  filled  the  cave,  and  the  leader  was  as- 
sured that  it  was  the  King  himself. 

Down  in  the  shadowy  place  knelt  the  seven.  It  was 
almost  the  first  time  that  Wilmot  had  ever  heard  his 
own  voice  in  prayer.  It  was  an  effort  to  do  this;  but 
his  ideal  had  led  and  driven  him  on.  The  sense  of  a 
new  dedication  came  upon  him  as  he  continued  in 
petition.  He  arose  transfigured,  and  he  and  the  six 
who  had  been  his  companions  descended  from  their 
cave  as  those  who  had  been  apart  in  the  hearing  of 
things  unlawful  to  be  uttered. 


V. 

LITTLE  KINKY. 

THE  ride  of  the  gang  from  Applegate  Wood  to 
Fountain  Square  was  marked  by  conduct  the  most 
decorous  and  genteel.  The  boys  sat  two  in  a  seat,  and 
watched  the  changing  scenery  as  the  flying  trolley 
sped  past  the  pleasant  woodsides  and  the  pretty  cot- 
tages in  the  country. 

"It's  the  first  time  I  ever  seen  the  worl'  look  like 
Sunday,"  remarked  Granger  to  Sim  as  they  surveyed 
together  the  open  fields  and  the  grassy  meadows  above 
which  could  be  seen,  a  mile  or  so  distant,  the  spires 
of  half  a  dozen  churches. 

"It  makes  a  fellow  feel  like  lookin'  and  lookin'  and 
sayin'  nothin',"  was  Sim's  significant  response. 

The  two  boys  then  lapsed  into  silence.  The  in- 
finite, the  immeasurable  had  swallowed  them  up.  The 
troglodyte  in  them  was  giving  place  to  the  children 
of  that  sentiment  from  without  and  above  which  hu- 
manizes and  redeems  from  sense.  The  fern  cave  with 
its  doubtful  inner  voice  was  being  superseded  by  the 
sky  vault  with  its  light  and  its  silences  of  sunset  more 
voiceful  of  the  spirit  of  life  than  any  sound  or  echo 
that  had  ever  visited  their  ears. 

Glancing  backward  at  his  confederates,  Wilmot  de- 
tected Kinky  with  his  chin  in  his  hands  and  his  elbows 
resting  on  the  base  of  the  car  windows  gazing  raptur- 
ously toward  the  sunset  that  glowed  like  the  flame  of 
a  consuming  city.  As  he  regarded  the  profile  of  the 


60  THE  GANG  OP  SIX. 

infantlike  face  the  story  of  Raphael's  cherubs  came  to 
his  mind.  When  the  great  master  was  painting  his 
picture  of  the  Christ-child,  he  left  the  unfinished  can- 
vas upon  the  easel  and  went  out  for  a  stroll  in  the 
park.  Returning,  he  found  that  two  Florentine  street 
urchins  had  climbed  to  the  wide  window  of  his  studio 
and,  with  chins  in  their  hands  and  elbows  rested  upon 
the  window  sill,  were  gazing  upon  the  picture  of  the 
Christ-child.  Instantly  seizing  his  pencil,  the  painter 
set  the  faces  of  the  gamins  as  cherubs  among  the 
clouds  that  made  a  glory  about  the  Christ-child.  And 
this  is  the  token  of  Raphael's  pencil — even  the  faces 
of  the  immortal  cherubs.  As  the  story  related  itself  to 
the  scene  before  him,  Wilmot  exclaimed :  "Would  that 
I  had  skill,  then  would  I  put  on  canvas  the  glory  of 
God  in  the  sunset,  and  in  that  glory  I  would  set  the 
worshipful  face  of  this  child  of  the  street  and  the 
garret !" 

In  spiritual  things  Wilmot  was  himself  little  more 
than  a  child.  Half  an  hour  before  this  moment  he 
had  uttered  his  first  audible  prayer.  In  the  illumina- 
tion coming  with  that  petition  he  had  seen  for  the 
first  time  the  possibilities  of  maturity  in  experience 
and  service.  His  bodily  being  had  trembled  in  answer 
to  his  own  spirit,  as  a  well-strung  viol  answers  to  the 
master  of  its  melodies.  So  is  it  ordained  that  the 
clamor  of  one's  own  voice  should  arouse  one's  soul.  Wil- 
mot was  sitting  amid  mysteries  which  his  own  voice 
had  awakened.  Before  this  his  religion  had  been  little 
more  than  a  reverence  for  divine  things.  This  rev- 
erence took  at  last  the  more  definite  shape  of  a  desire 
to  serve.  But  now  a  something  indefinable,  unutter- 


LITTLE  KINKY.  61 

able  rose  up  within  him.  Beatitude  was  nigh.  As 
he  gazed  steadily  at  the  parentless,  homeless  child  with 
face  upturned  toward  the  dying  light,  a  hot,  glad  tear 
distilled  in  each  of  his  eyes,  and  then  it  was  shown  him 
what  the  deep  and  sudden  rising  in  him  was — in  that 
moment  he  loved  the  little  waif  with  a 'love  which  he 
felt  must  be  akin  to  that  which  brought  the  Christ- 
child  to  earth.  The  beatitude  was  come. 

In  the  homeward-speeding  car,  the  interior  of  which 
grew  every  moment  more  shadowy  with  twilight,  there 
were  fulfilling  visions  of  which  the  crowd  of  boisterous 
Sabbath  revelers  seated  there  could  know  nothing. 
From  his  soulful  abstractions  Wilmot  was  awakened 
by  the  click  of  an  electric  button  which  turned  upon 
the  passengers  a  sudden  blaze  of  light  from  the  cluster 
of  incandescents  above.  He  had  scarcely  recovered 
his  normal  thought  when  the  guard  called:  "All  out 
for  Fountain  Square!"  And  immediately  forty  or 
fifty  passengers  struggled  and  crowded  out  through 
the  narrow  trolley  door  into  the  brighter  light  shed 
from  a  great  arc  lamp  above  the  Fountain. 

Once  more  before  separating  Wilmot  got  the  mem- 
bers of  the  newly  formed  League  of  Squires  together. 
A  quiet  nook  at  the  base  of  the  Fountain  afforded  the 
necessary  secrecy.  There  the  leader  put  into  the  hand 
of  each  boy  a  small  white  card  on  which  was  printed 
in  neat  types  the  line  "My  Secret."  Below  this  were 
two  Scripture  texts,  as  follows: 

Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth. 
Thy  word  have  I  hid  in  my  heart. 

On  the  reverse  side  of  each  card  Wilmot  had  traced 
with  hjs  fountain  pen  a  small  circle  with  the  sig- 


6a  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

nificant  black  dot  in  the  center.  Below  the  circle  ap- 
peared in  red  the  initial  "W."  These  cards  Wilmot 
had  prepared  during  the  previous  week  to  serve  an 
end  which  he  had  not  dared  to  hope  might  be  so  soon 
realized.  What  wonder,  then,  that  he  counted  himself 
as  one  who  had  walked  by  inspiration !  He  offered  no 
explanation  of  the  card,  but  left  each  boy  to  interpret 
its  message  for  himself.  He  relied,  however,  upon 
the  mystic  circle  and  red  monogram  to  do  their  work. 

When  the  boys  had  separated,  going  singly  and  in 
different  directions,  Wilmot  followed  Kinky,  overtak- 
ing him  in  the  shadow  of  a  tall  building  very  near  the 
Fountain.  "Kinky,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  dine  with 
me  to-night."  The  little  Arab  looked  up  at  his  friend, 
then  at  his  little  faded  jacket,  the  sleeves  of  which 
had  shrunken  until  too  short  for  even  his  undeveloped 
arms.  He  was  in  a  strait  between  desire  and  a  sense 
of  unfitness.  In  his  confusion  his  childish  lips  were 
dumb. 

"That's  all  right,  Kinky,"  said  the  young  man; 
"we'll  go  to  the  Little  Pearl  Cafe  and  order  a  booth 
all  to  ourselves.  I  want  to  have  a  nice  long  chat  with 
you;  and  friends,  you  know,  can  always  get  closer 
together  when  their  legs  are  under  the  same  table 
Come,  Kinky;  we'll  have  some  roast  turkey,  some 
salad,  a  plum  pudding,  and  some  chocolate  ice  and 
cake." 

Kinky's  face  lighted  perceptibly  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  cafe  and  its  menu,  especially  the  plum  pudding  ; 
and,  giving  his  hand  to  Wilmot,  he  permitted  himself 
to  be  led  away  toward  the  Little  Pearl.  Many  and 
many  a  time  in  his  eventful  little  life  Kinky  had 


LITTLE  KINKY.  63 

looked  longingly  through  the  high  plate-glass  windows 
of  the  Little  Pearl  at  the  tempting  stores  of  dressed 
fowl,  fish,  fruits,  and  other  delicacies  to  be  served  upon 
its  tables.  At  such  a  time  he  had  wondered  how  great 
a  fortune  it  would  require  to  buy  a  single  dinner  there. 
He  had  never  dared  to  venture  inside  that  dazzling 
place,  but  had  often  stood  near  the  door  selling  news- 
papers to  the  merchants  and  other  business  men  who 
went  in  and  out  in  the  evenings.  Sometimes  he  had 
got  a  whiff  of  the  savory  dishes,  and  had  involuntarily 
thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  intending  to  take 
every  copper  in  them  and  offer  the  whole  to  the 
cashier,  whose  register  was  near  the  door,  for  one  slice 
of  roast  fowl  and  a  dish  of  plum  pudding.  But  his 
courage  was  not  equal  to  such  an  adventure,  and  he 
went  away  to  order  a  sausage,  an  onion,  and  a  slice 
of  bread  from  the  counter  of  Dago  Toney  around  the 
corner.  Now  he  was  to  go  into  the  Little  Pearl  like 
a  banker  or  a  railroad  president  and  have  his  dinner 
brought  to  him  by  a  waiter  who  should  bow  and  say: 
"Your  order,  sir."  He  could  not,  however,  help 
thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket  to  count  wrhat  he 
had.  It  was  his  habit  in  going  to  the  lunch  counter. 
There  was  the  shilling  which  Wilmot  had  given  him 
in  the  cave,  but  that  was  a  keepsake.  There  also  were 
two  silver  dimes  left  from  the  half  dollar  which  Wil- 
mot had  slipped  into  his  jacket  pocket  the  Sunday  be- 
fore. He  rubbed  them  between  his  fingers  and  thought 
how  but  for  that  big,  bright  piece  of  silver  he  would 
have  been  several  times  during  the  past  week  without 
even  his  sausage  and  onion  for  lunch. 

But  now  they  were  in  the  Little  Pearl,  and  the  heacj 


64  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

waiter  was  bowing  and  showing  them  a  booth  all 
bright  with  mirrors  and  hung  with  the  daintiest  bits  of 
lace  curtains.  An  electric  lamp  glowed  under  a  pink 
shade  at  the  center  of  the  table.  Pretty  salt  and  pep- 
per stands,  shell-like  china,  and  dainty  pearl-handled 
knives,  and  silver  on  snowy  white  cloths  made  the 
table  look  as  if  it  had  been  dressed  by  the  genii.  There 
were  two  chairs  at  the  table.  One  of  these  the  waiter 
drew  out  for  Mr.  Wilmot,  and  then  seated  Kinky  in 
the  other.  When  he  had  spread  a  white  napkin  over 
the  whole  front  of  the  faded  jacket,  the  little  heart 
under  the  jacket  beat  more  quietly.  By  the  time  din- 
ner came  on  Kinky  was  feeling  much  at  home,  and 
answered  freely  all  the  questions  asked  by  his  good, 
new  friend.  The  dinner  only  helped  this  freedom. 
After  soup  came  wide  slices  of  turkey  laid  between 
toasts  of  bread,  with  tarts  of  cranberries,  buttered  pars- 
nips, and  peas.  Plum  pudding  followed,  great  sugar- 
loaf  heaps  of  it  with  sauce  to  be  approved  by  the  heart 
of  any  boy  that  ever  lived  in  hovel  or  palace.  The 
feast  was  leisurely  finished  with  the  promised  choc- 
olate ice  and  cake.  After  the  waiter  had  shown  Kinky 
how  to  dip  his  fingers  in  the  water  bowl  and  had 
brushed  the  crumbs  from  his  lap,  Wilmot  looked  at 
his  watch.  It  was  nine  o'clock !  Where  had  the  time 
gone?  As  he  meditatively  closed  his  watch  he  said: 
"Kinky,  I  want  to  go  home  with  you." 

Kinky  was  now  so  much  at  ease  that  he  could  an- 
swer without  hesitation.  His  speech  in  answer  to 
the  proposal  of  Wilmot  was  like  that  of  a  true  gen- 
tleman. "O,  Mr.  Wilmot,"  he  said,  "I  ain't  got  no 
home,  sir,  but  a  little  cubby  in  the  ole  Blue  Front 


LITTLE  KINKY.  65 

House.  I  uster  stay  up  at  the  Newsboys'  Barracks, 
but  they  put  a  whole  dozen  of  us  boys  in  one  big 
hall;  an'  as  I  allus  likes  a  place  to  myself,  I  went 
up  to  the  Blue  Front;  but  'tain't  no  place  fer  a  gen- 
tleman like  you,  Mr.  Wilmot." 

"Well,"  objected  Wilmot,  "we  belong  to  the  same 
gang,  you  know;  and  as  we  are  boys  together,  you 
don't  mind,  do  you?" 

"No,  sir,"  frankly  answered  the  waif ;  and  thereupon 
the  two  passed  out  of  the  Little  Pearl  into  the  open 
street. 

The  old  Blue  Front  was  an  ancient  landmark  of  the 
town.  In  the  "forties"  it  had  been  a  famous  hostelry. 
Local  tradition  told  that  under  its  roof  had  lodged 
Andrew  Jackson  and  at  least  one  other  President  of 
the  LTnited  States.  But  that  was  when  the  town  was 
little  more  than  a  village.  Now  the  Blue  Front  was 
a  rookery — a  nest  of  squalor,  poverty,  and  crooked 
ways.  It  was  pervaded  from  roof  to  cellar  by  mingled 
smells  of  mold,  gasoline,  and  cheap  tobacco  smoke. 
Up,  up  a  rickety  stair  to  the  third  story  of  the  Blue 
Front  Wilmot  followed  Kinky.  Truly  the  chamber 
they  entered  was  no  fit  place  for  any  human  being. 
A  mere  closet  it  was.  dark,  and  ventilated  by  but  one 
small  window,  and  that  too  high  .  up  to  be  reached 
except  by  an  adult.  The  floor  was  bare  and  smeared 
with  grease  and  dirt.  A  low,  hard  couch,  with  scant 
and  soiled  covering,  served  the  child  lodger  for  a  bed. 
There  were  on  a  rough,  pine  shelf,  low  enough  for 
Kinky's  use,  a  small  tin  water  pitcher  and  a  tin  hand 
basin  of  the  size  of  a  cake  pan.  There  were  one  rickety 
chair  and  a  ;small  empty  box,  also  meant  for  a  seat, 

5 


66  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

and  besides  these  the  room  was  bare.  A  few  tattered 
pieces  of  childish  apparel  depended  from  rusty  nails 
over  the  couch. 

As  the  two  entered  the  room  Kinky  struck  a  match 
and  lit  a  piece  of  candle  in  a  battered  tin  stick  and  set 
it  upon  the  pine  shelf  by  the  tin  basin.  He  then  set 
the  chair  out  for  Wilmot,  and  himself  sat  upon  the 
.empty  box. 

"Why  did  you  leave  the  Barracks?"  asked  Wilmot 
when  they  were  seated.  There  was  something  in  the 
young  man's  voice  which  the  newsboy  interpreted  to 
mean  that  the  reason  given  was  not  wholly  satisfactory. 

"Cause — cause,"  said  the  boy,  "there  was  too  many 
on  us,  sir,  and  the  other  boys  teased  me  cause  I  was 
little,  an'  I  jest  had  ter  leave  er  fight,  sir." 

"You  don't  like  to  fight,  then  ?"  asked  WTilmot. 

"No,  sir,  I  don't,"  was  the  quick,  frank  answer ;  "but 
I  don't  let  a  bigger  feller'n  me  impose  on  me  cause 
I'm  little.  So  I  thought  I'd  jest  better  get  away,  an' 
that's  the  reason  I  come  down  here,  sir." 

"But  it  costs  you  more  here,"  suggested  Wilmot. 

"Jest  a  little  more,  sir,"  returned  the  boy.  "I  had 
to  pay  twenty-five  cents  (an'  that's  what  you  calls 
a  shillin')  every  week  up  to  the  Barracks,  an'  down  here 
I  pays  thirty  cents  fer  this  cubby.  But  th'  ain't  nobody 
down  here  to  fight,  an'  sometimes  too  I  brings  my  sup- 
per here  an'  eats  it  in  peace." 

"I  see,"  said  Wilmot,  looking  tenderly  and  longingly 
at  the  child.  "How  much  money  do  you  make  each 
week?"  he  then  asked. 

"O,  sometimes  I  makes  a  dollar  and  sometimes  two. 
Onst  when  the  Fair  was  here  I  made  five  dollars,  and 


.LITTLE  KINKY.  67 

put  three  dollars  in  the  Savin's  Bank,  an'  it's  there 
now;"  and  he  proudly  exhibited  his  book,  soiled  and 
worn,  and  showing  its  single  entry. 

"Have  you  never  been  out  of  money  since  then?" 
asked  Wilmot,  deeply  interested  in  the  embryo  finan- 
cier. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  boy ;  "but  then  I  don't  take 
no  sandwich,  'cause  I  can't  spend  my  money  in  the 
bank;  that's  my  capital,  an'  it's  drawin'  more  money 
all  the  time.  Some  day  maybe  it'll  be  enough  to  start 
a  news  stand  with." 

Wilmot  now  looked  with  a  still  newer  interest  at  the 
child  that  had  from  the  first  drawn  out  his  sympathy 
and  tender  commiseration.  What  manner  of  life  was 
this  that  confronted  him?  Whence  was  this  child 
sprung?  Of  what  blood  was  he?  What  future  was 
he  to  fulfill? 

"Do  you  say  your  prayers  every  night,  Kinky?" 
Wilmot  finally  asked. 

"Does  you  mean  the  same  you  was  sayin'  in  the 
cave  this  afternoon?"  queried  Kinky. 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  mean,  my  little  boy,"  said  the 
other  tenderly. 

"I  never  has  done  so,"  returned  Kinky;  "but  I 
thought  prayers  when  I  was  lookin'  out  of  the  win- 
dow on  the  car  as  we  was  comin'  from  the  cave,  an' 
I  was  'lowin  I  would  try  my  han'  to-night ;  but  I  don't 
know  how  to  say  it  out,  Mr.  Wilmot." 

"Do  you  know  about  Jesus?"  asked  Wilmot,  con- 
centrating the  whole  light  of  his  soul  on  his  unques- 
tioning little  host. 

"Onst,"  returned  the  child,  "I  heard  a  lady  up  to 


68  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

the  Mission  Sunday  School  tellin'  the  kids  about  him; 
an'  then  I  heard  a  fellow  on  the  street  a-preachin' 
about  him  a-dyin'  for  a  lot  o'  folks.  But  ole  Simon, 
the  peddler,  says  there  ain't  no  Jesus  nor  no  Christ 
nor  nothin',  but  jest  one  God  a-livin'  by  hisself,  an' 
that  he's  so  fer  off  an'  so  busy  that  he  don't  take  no 
trouble  'bout  folks  down  here.  But,  Mr.  Wilmot, 
when  I  heard  you  a-talkin'  this  afternoon  in  the  cave 
about  Jesus  the  King,  an'  when  you  made  all  us  kids 
squires  for  him,  I  believed  it  all  in  spite  of  ole  Simon ; 
an'  I'm  jest  as  sure  as  I'm  settin'  on  this  box  here  that 
I  heard  the  King  say  to  me  in  the  cave,  'That's  right, 
Kinky;'  but  it  was  inside  o'  me,  an'  I  couldn't  tell 
nobody  about  it.  But  I  meant  to  tell  the  King  to- 
night afore  I  went  to  sleep ;  for  I'm  sure  he  can  under- 
stand me,  even  if  I  don't  have  no  good  words  to  say." 

At  this  confession  Wilmot  was  beyond  the  power  of 
utterance  in  his  own  words,  but  he  said  in  the  words 
of  the  Book:  "Surely  'the  wind  bloweth  where  it 
listeth ;'  'Except  ye  be  converted  and  become  as  a  little 
child.' "  At  length,  feeling  that  he  might  venture  on 
his  own  words,  Wilmot  asked:  "Kinky,  what  were 
you  going  to  say  to  the  King?  What  would  you  like 
to  say  to  him  ?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir;  but  I  s'posed  I  might  do  as  I 
did  at  the  car  window  in  the  sunset — jest  think  it  out 
to  myself.  I  couldn't  think  o'  no  other  way.  But, 
Mr.  Wilmot,  there's  one  thing  I  must  tell  the  King 
about,  an'  I  must  say  that  out  in  words,  cause  I  want 
him  to  know  it  true." 

"And  what  is  that.  Kinky  ?"  asked  Wilmot,  whelmed 
in  a  deeper  wonder  than  before. 


LITTLE  KINKY.  69 

"Onst  I  told  a  lie,  Mr.  Wilmot,  an'  more'n  onst, 
an'  done  a  lot  o'  things,"  confessed  Kinky  in  unaffect- 
ed sincerity;  "an'  that's  what  I  want  to  tell  the  King 
about,  an'  I  want  to  promise  never,  never  to  tell  an- 
other lie  an'  never  to  do  no  bad  things,  cause  a  squire 
oughtn't  to,  ought  he,  Mr.  Wilmot  ?" 

"O,  Kinky,  my  little  partner!"  cried  Wilmot  as  he 
drew  the  frowzy  head  against  his  breast,  "the  King 
has  heard  you  already,  thou  greatest  in  the  kingdom 
of  God!" 

For  an  hour  and  more  afterwards,  and  until  Kinky's 
candle  burned  into  the  socket  of  the  battered  tin  candle- 
stick, two  heads  remained  close  together  in  its  light; 
and  Wilmot,  from  the  small  black-bound  volume  which 
he  had  used  in  the  cave,  read  and  reread  in  the  story  of 
the  Christ-child  and  the  King  until  at  the  end  Kinky 
said:  "I  think  now,  Mr.  Wilmot,  I  can  talk  to  the 
King." 

Down  on  their  knees  by  the  low,  soiled  couch  the 
two  kneeled ;  and  after  Wilmot  had  led  the  way,  Kinky 
said:  "O  Jesus,  I  won't  believe  ole  Simon  any  more; 
but  I  believe  like  Mr.  Wilmot — I  believe  in  the  King. 

0  Jesus,  don't  let  me  tell  a  lie  again,  nor  fight,  nor 
do  nothin'  wrong.     I'm  sorry  I  did  so  onst.     But  now 

1  want  to  be  a  true  squire  and  obey,  an'  so's  I  can  be 
like  the  King.     An'  it's  little  Kinky,  Lord,  for  Jesus's 
sake.     Amen." 

The  candle  was  now  burned  to  the  last  fiber  of  its 
wick,  and  was  about  to  expire  when  Kinky  said : 
"When  I  opens  the  window,  the  big  'lectric  light  at 
the  corner  makes  it  nearly's  bright  as  day  in  here." 

"I'll  open  it  for  you,"  said  Wilmot,  rising;  and  sure 


70  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

enough  through  the  small  square  space  the  big  arc 
blaze  looked  in  with  a  cheerful  brightness.  A  long 
time  the  two  sat  in  the  white  glare  that  turned  the 
dingy  floor  and  the  smeared  walls  into  dancing  dia- 
mond dust: 

Wilmot  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  far  past  mid- 
night! The  strong  young  man  of  the  law  had  been 
lost  in  an  ecstasy  of  self-effacement.  He  had  con- 
descended to  the  lowly;  and  he  was  now  suddenly 
settled  in  a  purpose  to  complete  that  condescension. 
His  heart  encompassed  the  child  which  he  had  fol- 
lowed into  this  nest  of  squalor  and  sin.  What  mar- 
vel that  Kinky  was  not  a  little  mass  of  moral  putridity ! 
He  was  not  wholly  uncontaminated,  but  there  were 
left  moral  health  and  hope  and  beauty — strange,  fasci- 
nating beauty.  Wilmot  vowed  in  his  heart  that  the 
child  should  never  pass  another  night  alone  in  that 
Blue  Front  Sodom.  Turning  about,  he  said:  "Kinky, 
I'm  going  to  spend  the  night  with  you,  if  you'll  in- 
vite me." 

Kinky  stammered  again,  hesitated,  and,  looking 
toward  the  dirty  couch,  said:  "It  ain't  no  nice  bed 
much,  Mr.  Wilmot ;  but  you  sleep  in  it,  an'  I'll  put  my 
jacket  under  my  head  an'  sleep  on  the  floor." 

"O  no,"  objected  Wilmot ;  "your  bed  will  do  for  us 
both,  Kinky.  We're  boys  together,  you  know.  I'm 
going  to  spend  the  night  with  you  to-night,  and  you'll 
spend  to-morrow  night  with  me.  You  see  we  fellows 
must  mix  up  if  we  are  going  to  ride  together  for  the 
King." 

Smilingly  Kinky  submitted  to  Wilmot's  plan,  and, 
laying  off  his  jacket  and  slipping  out  of  his  shoes,  he 


-LITTLE  KINKY.  71 

rolled  over  to  the  back  of  his  hard  and  comfortless 
bed.  Little  did  he  dream  that  he  should  never  again 
after  this  night  feel  its  hardness  or  dream  again  in  the 
ill-smelling  little  chamber.  Wilmot,  moving  more 
leisurely,  wound  his  watch,  laid  off  his  coat,  and,  re- 
moving his  shoes,  laid  himself  down  beside  his  little 
host.  In  the  briefest  time  Kinky  was  asleep.  A  Sab- 
bath night's  stillness  was  on  the  city.  Wilmot  heard 
the  low  throbbing  of  the  electric  power  house  engine 
a  block  away  and  occasionally  the  "hitch,"  "hitch" 
of  the  carbon  points  in  the  arc  lamp  at  the  corner. 
There  was  peace  in  his  heart,  and  soon,  with  his 
cheek  resting  upon  his  palm  and  thinking  of  Him  who, 
though  he  was  rich  in  kingly  glory,  yet  for  love  of  us 
pillowed  his  head  in  poverty,  the  dark-haired,  hand- 
some young  man  slept  the  sleep  of  boyhood. 

When  the  shadows  of  the  next  night  fell,  Wilmot 
and  Kinky  sat  together  again  in  the  glow  of  the  same 
light,  but  their  surroundings  were  far  different.  The 
scene  was  Wilmot' s  large  and  comfortably  furnished 
apartment  on  the  second  floor  of  his  father's  spacious 
suburban  home.  Kinky  wore  a  neat  blue  sailor  suit. 
The  rolling  collar  of  his  sailor  shirt  was  secured  at 
the  throat  by  a  soft  blue  necktie,  with  a  white  silk 
anchor  worked  at  each  end.  His  dark  curls  were 
brushed  back  from  his  forehead,  and  Kinky  looked 
happy.  He  was  turning  the  pages  of  a  big  picture 
book  for  boys  and  reading  as  best  he  could  the  stories 
therein.  Sometimes  he  turned  to  ask  a  question  of 
Wilmot,  who  was  otherwise  deeply  absorbed  in  the 
contents  of  a  book  whose  leaves  appeared  to  be  but 
freshly  cut. 


72  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

In  an  alcove  of  the  large  chamber  was  Wilmot's 
bed  and  dressing  room,  beyond  which  was  his  bath. 
In  another  corner,  cut  off  by  pretty  Japanese  screens, 
was  a  low  white  couch,  soft  and  inviting,  which  had 
been  only  that  day  put  in.  It  was  to  be  Kinky's  very 
own,  and  for  all  time,  for  the  big  Wilmot  mansion 
was  now  become  Kinky's  home  instead  of  the  ill- 
smelling  little  chamber  in  the  old  Blue  Front  rookery. 

While  the  two  sat  reading  by  the  bright  table  lamp 
Harry  Wilmot's  mother  came  in  and  kissed  him  ten- 
derly to  say  good  night.  Stooping  low,  she  kissed 
Kinky  also,  saying:  "I  must  kiss  my  boy's  partner; 
some  day  I  hope  to  be  proud  of  him.  Bless  the  dear 
curly  head !"  And  this  was  how  Kinky  found  a  home. 

The  next  day  when  Wilmot's  office  on  the  third 
floor  of  the  tall  Applegate  Building  was  opened  Kinky 
was  installed  in  the  front  chamber  as  the  silent  junior 
partner.  His  present  duty  _  was  to  keep  the  office  right, 
announce  callers,  and  go  on  errands.  And  who  could 
better  do  this  last  than  Kinky,  the  ex-newsboy,  who 
knew  the  town  as  he  knew  the  inside  of  his  own  hat? 
When  not  on  one  of  these  duties,  Kinky  sat  on  a  high 
chair  before  a  high  desk  and  studied  a  lesson  which 
Mr.  Wilmot  had  given  him.  In  this  manner  he  spent 
his  first  week  as  a  squire. 

It  was  one  evening  of  this  week  and  late — as  late  as 
ten  o'clock — that  Wilmot  sat  at  a  small  table  in  front 
of  old  Simon,  the  peddler,  in  his  little  tunnel-like  shop 
under  the  viaduct,  and  where  were  piled  up  heaps  of 
shoddy  clothing,  crates  of  cheap  hats,  haberdashery, 
and  notions,  and  from  which  place  the  peddler  radi- 
ated over  the  city.  The  conversation,  which  had  been 


m  LITTLE  KINKY.  73 

a  searching  one  on  Wilmot's  part,  lulled  a  little.  A 
determined  look  was  on  the  young  man's  face,  seeing 
which  old  Simon  said:  "I  dond't  thingk  thadt  you 
haf  right  to  make  Gristian  of  thadt  boy,  Meester 
Weelmot;  hees  fadder  vass  a  Chew." 

"But  tell  me  who  his  father  was,"  insisted  Wilmot. 

"Veil,  I  dond't  thingk  thadt  I  tell.  He  vass  a  Chew 
all  righdt,"  defiantly  persisted  Simon. 

"And  was  his  mother  a  Jewess  ?"  asked  the  other. 

"No,  I  thingk  thadt  I  tell  you  she  vass  not  Jewess. 
She  vass  Gristian.  Vat  you  callt  dem  Dago  beeples  ?" 
queried  Simon. 

"Italians,"  suggested  Wilmot. 

"Ya,  Eetallyans — thadt  vass  de  vort;  but  she  vass 
not  some  of  dem  Dago  beeples.  Her  fadder  vass  baint- 
er;  he  baints  dem  golors  on  vat  you  call  de  ganvas. 
An  arteest,  you  know." 

"So,"  said  Wilmot  meditatively,  a  vision  of  sunset 
and  of  canvases  with  the  Christ-child  and  cherubs  upon 
them  coming  to  him.  "What  was  his  mother's  name  ?" 
insisted  Wilmot  after  another  pause. 

"Veil,"  returned  Simon  with  a  shrug  characteristic 
of  the  manner  of  his  race,  "I  dond't  know — I  dond't 
thingk  I  tell.  Her  fadder  vass  great  bainter,  but  he 
vass  diedt  early  of  hees  daughter's  life — I  dond't 
know." 

Seeing  that  it  was  vain  to  pursue  the  matter  farther, 
Wilmot  arose,  saying:  "Well,  at  least  the  child's 
mother  was  a  Christian,  and  so  is  Kinky,  and  shall  re- 
main so;"  and  with  that  he  left  old  Simon  to  his  re- 
flections. 


VI. 
A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY. 

SUNDAY  afternoon  had  come  again,  and  in  its  mild 
glow  the  League  of  Squires,  with  its  leader,  entered 
the  inviting  shadows  of  Applegate  Wood.  Wilmot, 
with  Kinky  by  his  side,  as  usual,  led  the  way  in  the 
upward  path  toward  the  Castle  of  Arms.  Kinky's 
new  sailor  suit  and  cap,  with  his  new  tan  shoes, 
brought  him  up  to  a  favorable  comparison  with  Sim 
Phillips,  the  chevalier  of  the  former  gang.  There 
was  no  remark  made  by  any  of  the  boys  on  Kinky's 
changed  fortune,  except  of  congratulation  to  him  and 
of  admiration  for  Wilmot.  As  for  Kinky,  he  was  the 
same  trustful  but  shrinking  child.  His  life  hitherto 
had  grown  too  thoroughly  in  the  shadows  of  adversity 
to  know  anything  of  human  vanity  and  pride. 

When  the  Squires  arrived  in  sight  of  their  Castle 
of  Arms,  they  perceived  that  notable  changes  had 
taken  place  there  during  the  previous  week.  Four 
stout  cedar  posts  carried  a  strong  wire  fence  to  the 
entire  height  of  the  cave's  mouth,  while  in  the  center 
of  the  fence  was  set  an  iron  gate  secured  by  a  steel  lock 
which  gave  a  most  mysterious  look  to  the  place.  A 
short  stair  of  oaken  boards  led  up  to  the  gate.  The 
boys  paused  a  moment,  mystified  and  dumb,  as  they 
read  the  sign  above  the  gate:  "Castle  of  Arms — Pri- 
vate." 

"It's  our  very  own,"  said  Wilmot ;  "it's  our  castle  to 
defend  against  all  comers.  Nobody  except  a  member 


A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  75 

of  the  League  can  ever  see  inside  it  without  our  in- 
vitation." 

The  old  gang  shout  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  six 
boys  as  they  realized  what  their  leader  had  done  to 
fulfill  his  pledge  to  provide  them  a  meeting  place. 

"Partner,  you're  a  good  un,"  declared  Granger  in 
tones  unusually  enthusiastic;  and  again  the  boys  re- 
newed their  demonstration. 

Taking  from  his  pocket  the  large  brass  key  to  the 
Castle,  Wilmot  said:  'The  other  Squires  will  remain 
here  until  Granger  and  I  go  into  the  Castle  and  make 
ready  to  receive  you.  When  you  hear  Granger  give 
a  blast  upon  the  warder's  bugle,  you  shall  come  up, 
one  behind  the  other,  Sim  leading  the  way.  At  the 
gate  you  must  each  give  the  Squire's  password." 

With  that  the  five  boys  designated  dropped  into 
their  favorite  positions  on  the  hillside,  and  Wilmot 
and  Granger  proceeded  up  the  way  into  the  mighty 
hold  of  the  Castle  of  Arms.  Putting  the  key  into  the 
lock,  Wilmot  showed  Granger  how  to  turn  it  and  push 
back  the  steel  bolt.  The  gate  was  then  opened  and 
the  two  entered.  On  the  inside,  Wilmot  handed  the 
key  to  Granger,  saying:  "Worthy  Squire  and  brave 
warder  of  the  Castle  of  Arms,  I  commit  to  you  the 
key  to  this  our  strong  Castle,  whose  gate  is  never  to 
open  except  to  worthy  Squires  of  the  League  and  such 
noble  Knights  as  they  may  hereafter  become  or  such 
as  they  may  invite  to  come  within."  After  saying  this, 
he  stepped  into  the  cave;  and  bringing  out  a  small 
silver  bugle,  or  hunter's  horn,  he  handed  it  also  to 
Granger,  saying :  "This,  brave  warder,  is  the  tongue  of 
our  Castle.  It  will  call  the  Squires  to  duty  and  to 


76  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

fellowship.  Every  Squire  shall  be  instructed  to  re- 
pair without  delay  to  the  Castle  gate  at  the  call  of  this 
trumpet.  Who  will  not  answer  this  tongue  of  the 
Castle  shall  not  ride  with  us  on  the  King's  business. 
Summon  the  Squires,  brave  warder  of  the  Castle." 

Granger  smiled  triumphantly  as  he  put  the  bugle 
to  his  mouth  and  blew  a  few  discordant  but  echo- 
making  notes.  The  silvery  discords  rang  through  the 
trees  and  down  the  slopes.  The  answer  was  the  meas- 
ured tramp  of  five  pairs  of  feet  up  the  narrow  oaken 
stair.  One  by  one,  beginning  with  Sim,  the  boys  en- 
tered, each  one  whispering  the  password  to  the  warder. 
After  that  the  gate  was  locked,  the  bugle  slung  by  its 
long  red  cord  over  Granger's  shoulder,  and  the  key 
left  to  dangle  at  his  girdle.  As  the  Squires  entered 
the  cave,  led  by  Wilmot,  a  sight  as  pleasing  and  more 
mysterious,  if  possible,  met  their  eyes.  The  interior 
had  been  transformed  in  a  simple  but  effective  way. 
A  long  and  somewhat  narrow  table  of  well-planed 
boards  had  been  set  up  in  the  very  midst  of  the  cave, 
and  about  it  had  been  set  a  number  of  movable  seats 
made  of  the  branches  of  willows  and  young  oaks.  On 
the  table,  in  brass  sticks  high  and  mysterious-looking, 
burned  three  or  four  candles  to  help  the  uncertain 
light  of  the  cave.  Against  the  wall  near  by  was  a 
wide,  rough  board  closet,  itself  provided  with  a  lock, 
and  all  over  it  written  mystery  and  surprise.  It  was 
not  easy  for  the  boys  to  curb  their  enthusiasm  amid 
these  surroundings;  but  after  carefully  surveying  the 
whole  and  asking  many  questions,  they  became  quiet 
enough  to  be  directed  by  Wilmot  to  stand  in  line  and 
await  the  first  ceremonial  of  the  Squires'  meeting. 


A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  77 

This  done,  Wilmot  took  a  small  key  from  his  pocket 
and  unlocked  the  mysterious  closet.  What  a  stirring 
sight  the  boys  saw  inside  that  closet!  Against  the 
back  wall  of  it  on  two  iron  hooks  rested  a  real  sword 
in  a  brass-tipped  scabbard.  Across  the  sword  passed 
the  staff  of  a  pretty  blue  banner  on  which  was  wrought 
a  white  Maltese  cross.  At  each  side  were  hung  blue 
silk  sashes  on  each  of  which  was  wrought  in  white 
silk  the  outlines  of  an  open  book.  Taking  down  six 
of  these  sashes,  Wilmot  hung  one  athwart  the  shoulder 
of  each  boy,  saying  as  he  did  so:  "This  is  the  badge 
of  a  Squire  of  the  League.  The  open  book  upon 
the  badge  is  the  Bible,  the  Word  of  the  King  which 
every  Squire  has  taken  a  vow  to  obey.  This  badge 
you  will  wear  when  in  our  Castle  of  Arms;  but  out- 
side in  the  world,  as  everywhere  else,  you  must  wear 
the  unseen  badge  of  a  Squire  in  your  heart." 

Wilmot  then  took  down  the  sword  and  the  banner. 
The  sword  he  laid  upon  the  table  where  the  candles 
were  burning,  but  the  banner  he  gave  to  Sim  Phillips 
and  showed  him  how  to  set  its  staff  up  by  the  table 
so  that  it  might  droop  above  the  heads  of  the  Squires 
when  they  sat  down.  This  having  been  done,  Wilmot 
caused  the  Squires  to  sit  on  one  side  and  at  each  end 
of  the  table,  Granger  at  the  right  end  and  Sim  at 
the  left,  but  himself  sat  at  the  opposite  side,  so  as  to 
face  the  company.  When  they  were  all  seated,  he 
said:  "We  shall  always  sit  this  way  when  the  League 
meets  to  talk,  to  read,  and  to  hear  stories  of  knights 
and  noble  deeds.  This  is  our  'Round  Table,'  just  as 
the  great  King  Arthur  and  his  knights  had  theirs  in 
the  palace  of  the  King  at  Camelot.  Some  day  too  we 


78  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

shall  talk  about  the  tab!e  of  our  Great  King  and  of 
those  who  sit  with  him  about  it ;  but  now  we  go  about 
to  learn  obedience." 

As  Wilmot  finished  this  speech  he  cast  his  eyes  along 
the  rank  of  his  youthful  Squires.  The  sight  was  thrill- 
ing to  his  quiet,  eager  soul.  The  pretty  blue  sashes, 
the  bright  young  faces,  the  drooping  banner  above, 
and  the  boyish  earnestness  with  which  all  was  accepted 
seemed  a  voice  speaking  approval  of  his  zealous  wish. 
He  could  not  realize  that  this  was  the  lawless  gang 
of  gamins  that  he  had  encountered  on  the  public  street 
only  three  Sabbaths  before.  But  such  is  the  open  and 
easy  way  into  the  heart  of  boyhood  that  its  affection 
and  loyalty  may  be  won  by  the  wise  and  gentle  teach- 
er in  a  day.  If  one  should  write  the  most  impossible 
"Pilgrim's  Progress"  and  compass  the  journey  to  the 
Delectable  Mountains  in  a  single  day,  it  would  at  once 
become  believable  if  only  the  pilgrim  of  the  way  were 
found  to  be  a  child.  Does  there  not  appear  in  this  the 
meaning  of  that  too  little  believed  injunction  of  lips 
divine :  "Except  ye  be  converted  and  become  as  a  little 
child?"  But  access  to  the  fujl  blessedness  and  per- 
fection of  the  kingdom  is  not  of  art  even  with  the 
young  and  the  innocent.  "A  year  and  a  day" — a  life- 
time, indeed — must  faith  ride  toward  the  goal  of  a 
perfect  obedience.  For  the  youthful  Squires  who  sat 
about  the  rustic  table  in  the  Castle  of  Arms  the  way 
of  obedience  was  to  be  opened  stage  by  stage,  and 
that  in  a  fellowship  which  appealed  to  every  better 
impulse  and  which  entered  through  every  avenue  of 
the  boyish  heart. 

"At  the  Round  Table,"  began  Wilmot  after  they 


A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  79 

had  had  some  moments  of  silence,  "each  one  may  speak 
or  ask  a  question  of  the  others,  but  only  one  may  speak 
at  a  time.  First,  however,  we  should  either  read  or 
have  told  a  short  story,  about  which  we  may  then  talk 
or  ask  questions.  Shall  we  read  or  have  a  story  ?" 

''Read !"  cried  several  of  the  boys  in  concert,  remem- 
bering the  story  of  the  boy  Samuel  which  they  had 
had  on  the  previous  Sabbath. 

"Since  we  are  to  read,"  said  Wilmot,  "I  will  select 
an  old  true  story  showing  how  happiness  and  honor 
come  through  obedience  and  how  dishonor  and  death 
come  through  disobedience." 

He  then  took  the  Book  from  his  pocket  and  read 
as  follows :  "  'Now  there  was  a  man  of  Benjamin, 
whose  name  was  Kish.  .  .  .  And  he  had  a  son, 
whose  name  was  Saul,  a  choice  young  man,  and  a 
goodly:  and  there  was  not  among  the  children  of 
Israel  a  goodlier  person  than  he:  from  his  shoulders 
and  upward  he  was  higher  than  any  of  the  people. 
And  the  asses  of  Kish  Saul's  father  were  lost.  And 
Kish  said  to  Saul  his  son,  Take  now  one  of  the  serv- 
ants with  thee,  and  arise,  go  seek  the  asses.  And  he 
passed  through  Mount  Ephraim,  and  passed  through 
the  land  of  Shalisha,  but  they  found  them  not.  '  .  .  . 
And  when  they  were  come  to  the  land  of  Zuph,  Saul 
said  to  his  servant  that  was  with  him,  Come,  and 
let  us  return;  lest  my  father  leave  caring  for  the 
asses,  and  take  thought  for  us.  And  he  said  unto 
him,  Behold  now,  there  is  in  this  city  a  man  of 
God,  and  he  is  an  honorable  man;  all  that  he  saith 
cometh  surely  to  pass:  now  let  us  go  thither;  perad- 
venture  he  can  show  us  our  way  that  we  should  go. 


So  THE   GANG   OF.  SIX. 

.  .  .  Now  the  Lord  had  told  Samuel  in  his  ear 
a  day  before  Saul  came,  saying,  To-morrow  about 
this  time  I  will  send  thee  a  man  out  of  the  land  of 
Benjamin,  and  thou  shalt  anoint  him  to  be  captain 
over  my  people  Israel.  .  .  .  Then  Samuel  took 
a  vial  of  oil,  and  poured  it  upon  his  head,  and  kissed 
him,  and  said,  Is  it  not  because  the  Lord  hath 
anointed  thee  to  be  captain  over  his  inheritance? 
.  .  .  And  it  was  so,  that  when  he  had  turned  his 
back  to  go  from  Samuel,  God  gave  him  another 
heart.  .  .  .  And  Saul  also  went  home  to  Gib- 
eah ;  and  there  went  with  him  a  band  of  men,  whose 
hearts  God  had  touched.  .  .  .  And  .  .  .  Saul 
put  the  people  in  three  companies ;  and  they  came  into 
the  midst  of  the  host  in  the  morning  watch,  and  slew 
the  Ammonites  until  the  heat  of  the  day :  and  it  came 
to  pass,  that  they  which  remained  were  scattered,  so 
that  two  of  them  were  not  left  together.  .  .  . 
And  all  the  people  went  to  Gilgal;  and  there  they 
made  Saul  king;  .  .  .  and  there  Saul  and  all  the 
men  of  Israel  rejoiced  greatly.'  " 

"This,"  said  Wilmot  slowly  when  he  had  finished 
the  reading,  "is  the  good  story  of  Saul  when  he  obeyed 
the  commandment  of  God  his  King;  but  there  is  a 
sad  and  evil  story  of  him  when  he  was  disobedient. 
This  story  you  will  now  hear:  'And  when  Saul  saw 
the  hosts  of  the  Philistines,  he  was  afraid,  and  his 
heart  greatly  trembled.  And  when  Saul  inquired  of 
the  Lord,  the  Lord  answered  him  not.  .  .  .  Then 
said  Saul  unto  his  servants,  Seek  me  a  woman  that 
hath  a  familiar  spirit,  that  I  may  go  to  her,  and  inquire 
of  her.  And  his  servants  said  to  him,  Behold,  there  is 


A  Y.EAR  AND  A  DAY.  Si 

a  woman  that  hath  a  familiar  spirit  at  Endor.  And 
Saul  disguised  himself,  and  put  on  other  raiment,  and 
he  went,  and  two  men  with  him,  and  they  came  to  the 
woman  by  night;  and  he  said,  I  pray  thee,  divine  unto 
me  by  the  familiar  spirit,  and  bring  me  him  up,  whom 
I  shall  name  unto  thee.  .  .  .  Then  said  the  wom- 
an, Whom  shall  I  bring  up  unto  thee?  And  he  said, 
Bring  me  up  Samuel.  /And  when  the  woman  saw 
Samuel,  she  cried  with  a  loud  voice.  .  .  .  And 
the  woman  said  unto  Saul,  I  saw  gods  ascending  out 
of  the  earth.  And  he  said  unto  her,  What  form  is 
he  of  ?  And  she  said,  An  old  man  cometh  up.  .  .  . 
And  Saul  perceived  that  it  was  Samuel,  and  he  stooped 
with  his  face  to  the  ground,  and  bowed  himself.  .  .  . 
Then  said  £amuel,  Wherefore  then  dost  thou  ask  of 
me,  seeing  the  Lord  hath  departed  from  thee,  and  is 
become  thine  enemy?  .  .  .  Because  thou  obeyedst 
not  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  .  .  .  the  Lord  will  also 
deliver  Israel  with  thee  into  the  hands  of  the  Philis- 
tines: and  to-morrow  shalt  thou  and  thy  sons  be  with 
me.  .  .  .  Now  the  Philistines  fought  against  Is- 
rael :  and  the  men  of  Israel  fled  from  before  the  Phil- 
istines, and  fell  down  slain  in  mount  Gilboa.  .  .  . 
And  the  battle  went  sore  against  Saul,  and  the  archers 
hit  him;  and  he  was  sore  wounded  of  the  archers. 
.  .  .  Therefore  Saul  took  a  sword,  and  fell  upon 
it.  ...  So  Saul  died,  and  his  three  sons,  and  his 
armor-bearer,  and  all  his  men,  that  same  day  togeth- 
er.' " 

When  all  the  reading  was  over  and  there  was  an- 
other short  silence,  Sim,  rising  at  the  left,  said;  "Mr, 
6 


82  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

Wilmot,  I've  tried  powerful  to  be  a  good  Squire  all 
the  week,  but  I've  had  poor  luck  doin'  it." 

"What  has  been  the  trouble,  Sim?"  asked  Wilmot 
kindly. 

"Well,  mostly,  sir,  it's  been  the  temptation  to  say 
bad  and  ugly  words;  an'  one  day  a  boy  put  a  chip 
on  his  shoulder  an'  dared  me  to  knock  it  off,  an'  'fore 
I  thought  I  was  into  him  an'  give  him  a  lickin'.  He'd 
oughter  been  licked  too,  but  I  think  a  Squire  hadn't 
oughter  fight  only  the  King's  enemies  an'  not  other 
boys,  don't  you,  Mr.  Wilmot?" 

"I'm  sure  that's  right,  Sim,"  answered  Wilmot; 
"and  if  you  will  try  again  and  ask  the  King  to  help 
you,  you  will  come  out  far  better  the  next  time." 

"I  mean  to  do  it,"  returned  Sim  earnestly. 

The  next  response  came  from  an  unexpected  quar- 
ter. It  was  Jimmy  Glenn,  the  widow's  son,  who 
spoke.  "I  think  I  could  'a'  done  pretty  well  bein'  a 
Squire,  Mr.  Wilmot,  but  I've  been  a-tellin'  my  mother 
a  long  time  what  ain't  true,  sir,  an'  I  couldn't  quite 
keep  from  doin'  it  again;  but  I  told  mother  about  my 
bein'  made  a  Squire  an'  about  havin'  a  secret,  an'  now 
mother  an'  me  is  askin'  the  King  together  to  help  me 
to  keep  from  tellin'  lies,  an'  mother  says  he  will  do  it." 

There  was  a  deepened  sense  of  interest  and  serious- 
ness in  the  faces  of  the  boys  as  the  sallow-faced  lad 
told  his  story.  A  choking  came  into  Wilmot's  throat, 
but  he  said  comfortingly:  "You  are  a  brave  lad,  Jim- 
my. The  boy  that  trusts  his  mother  and  prays  with 
her  will  not  often  go  wrong.  The  King  will  help 
you,  I  know." 

"I  wasn't  awfully  sure  about  the  voice  I  heard  last 


A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  83 

Sunday  in  the  cave,  Mr.  Wilmot,"  said  Tommy  Biles, 
the  next  to  speak;  "but  I've  been  a-hearin'  it  almost 
ever  since.  It  wouldn't  let  me  have  no  rest  for  a 
long  time." 

"What  did  the  voice  seem  to  say,  Tommy?"  asked 
the  leader  with  unconcealed  interest. 

"Why,  it  kept  a-tellin'  me,  or  seemed  to  be,  that  I 
must  quit  suckin'  cigarettes.  An'  I  couldn't  get  no 
rest  till  I  promised  to  quit;  an'  then  I  didn't  quit,  an' 
it  kept  on  comin'  back;  then  I  quit  sure  enough.  I 
quit  last  Thursday,  an'  I  don't  never  'spect  to  suck 
another,  cause  I  think  a  Squire  hadn't  oughter." 

"That  is  a  noble  resolve,  Tommy,"  said  Wilmot; 
"for  it  not  only  means  obedience  to  your  vow  as  a 
Squire,  but  it  means  salvation  to  your  body.  No  boy 
who  smokes  cigarettes  can,  if  he  continues,  be  either 
a  healthy,  a  wise,  or  a  clean  man.  Cigarettes  destroy 
thousands  and  thousands  of  boys  every  year.  I  won- 
der if  any  of  the  other  Squires  ever  learned  to  smoke 
cigarettes  ?" 

To  Wilmot's  no  great  astonishment  every  hand 
about  the  table  went  up.  Remembering  that  in  his 
boyhood  he  had  had  the  same  struggle  described  by 
Tommy  Biles,  Wilmot  raised  his  hand  also,  and  said: 
"A  long  while  ago  I  was  also  led  astray  by  cigarettes ; 
but  I  quit,  and  will  never  go  that  evil  way  again." 

"That's  me,"  cried  Granger.  "I'm  quittin'  right 
now,  en'  fer  good ;"  and  the  ex-gang  leader  stood  up 
in  a  determined  way. 

"So'm  I,"  chirped  out  Mack  Pooley  earnestly,  but 
in  his  usually  diffident  tones. 

"An'  so'm  I,"  "An'  so'm  I,"  spoke  up  Sim  Phillips 


84  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

and  Jimmy  Glenn  in  quick  succession;  and  so  all  the 
boys  except  Kinky  were  committed. 

With  an  inquisitive  look,  Wilmot  fixed  his  eye  on 
the  face  of  his  favorite  and  said:  "And  what  about 
Kinky?" 

"O,"  answered  the  child,  "I  told  the  King  about  it 
the  night  we  was  in  the  oT  Blue  Front.  I  quit  then." 

Triumphant  Kinky!  His  first  vision  of  the  King 
made  him  a  child  of  the  kingdom.  He  had  purified 
both  his  lips  and  heart  in  believing. 

"It  is  good  to  make  a  noble  resolve,"  said  Wilmot, 
looking  slowly  around  the  circle  at  the  table;  "it  is 
more  than  noble  to  keep  it.  Our  League,  our  vow, 
our  Castle,  and  our  Round  Table  are  meant  to  help 
us  to  do  noble  things.  We  are  to  help  one  another. 
It  is  good  to  take  a  pledge  together.  Let  us  keep  our 
pledge.  But  to  do  it  we  must  watch.  The  tempter 
will  come  every  day.  In  Arthur's  palace  there  were 
statues  that  showed  beasts  overcoming  men ;  there 
were  also  statues  showing  men  overcoming  beasts; 
then  there  were  statues  showing  men  in  armor  with 
swords  in  their  hands;  and,  above  all,  there  were 
statues  showing  men  with  wings  starting  from  their 
shoulders  and  with  flames  of  fire  on  their  brows. 
These  were  to  show  how  men  must  fight  to  overcome 
evil,  and  after  overcoming  how  they  must  continue 
to  use  the  sword  of  truth  to  win  the  highest  glory. 
I  shall  read  you  now  one  more  story,  and  it  shall  be 
about  a  mighty  man  who  did  valiantly  and  overcame." 
Saying  which,  Wilmot  opened  the  Book  and  read : 
"  'And  Benaiah  the  son  of  Jehoiada,  the  son  of  a 
valiant  man,  of  Kabzeel,  who  had  done  many  acts, 


A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  85 

he  slew  two  lionlike  men  of  Moab:  he  went  down  also 
and  slew  a  lion  in  the  midst  of  a  pit  in  time  of  snow/ 
This  is  the  story  of  the  mighty  man,"  continued  Wilmot. 
"The  lionlike  men  and  the  lion  are  the  evil  thoughts, 
the  evil  companionships,  and  the  temptations  that  lead 
us  astray.  If  the  Squires  will  all  be  valiant,  they  can 
slay  all  the  lions  they  meet  in  the  way;  they  can  even 
go  down  into  the  pit  and  meet  the  lion  there.  The 
true  Squire  can  overcome  in  everything.  The  King 
will  help  him." 

The  candles  had  burned  within  an  inch  of  the  sockets 
of  their  high  metal  sticks  and  the  shadows  were  falling 
long  and  dim  on  the  hillside  without  when  the  little 
company  about  the  table  arose  and,  following  Wilmot 
sentence  by  sentence,  said  together  "Our  Father  which 
art  in  heaven"  to  the  end.  At  the  gate  Granger  blew 
again  the  hunter's  bugle,  and  the  Squires,  led  by  Wil- 
mot, filed  out.  Granger  then  hung  the  bugle  up  in 
its  place,  locked  the  closet  containing  the  sword,  ban- 
ner, and  sashes,  and  put  the  key  in  a  secret  place. 
He  then  locked  the  Castle  gate  and  dropped  the  big 
brass  key,  with  its  brass  chain,  into  his  trousers  pocket. 
Thereupon  the  Squires  and  leader  left  their  Castle  of 
Arms  to  the  goodly  silence  of  the  hills. 

There  was  no  little  quiet  animation  and  confidential 
talk  amongst  the  "cavemen,"  as  they  now  began  to  call 
themselves,  during  the  trolley  ride  back  to  Fountain 
Square.  Once  alighted  at  the  Square,  Wilmot  treated 
the  boys  to  another  surprise.  It  was  only  three  days 
from  that  Sabbath  afternoon  until  the  "Fourth."  This 
holiday  was  the  occasion  for  one  of  Wilmot's  plans  for 
tying  his  Squires  on  more  completely  to  his  leadership. 


86  TH£  GANG  OF  SIX. 

Into  the  hand  of  each  boy,  including  Kinky,  who  knew 
no  more  of  the  "plan"  than  the  others,  he  thrust  a 
card  on  one  side  of  which  were  beautifully  printed  with 
a  fountain  pen  the  following  words : 

From    five   to   nine    P.M. 

Wednesday,  July  4,  on 
The  Wilmot  Lawn,  1400  Grand  Avenue, 

A  SQUIRES'  RECEPTION. 
Open-air   gymnasium,    luncheon, 

magic  lantern,  and  fireworks. 
You  ARE  CORDIALLY  INVITED — PRESENT  THIS  CARD. 

On  the  reverse  side  of  the  card  was  the  mystic  "bull's 
eye"  traced  in  black,  and  underneath  in  red  the  cabal- 
istic "W."  Instead  of  the  "tiger"  with  which  the  boys 
a  fortnight  before  would  have  hailed  this  invitation, 
led  by  Sim,  they  plucked  off  their  caps  and  shook  Wil- 
mot's  hand  most  cordially  in  acceptance  of  his  invita- 
tion. There  is  a  gentleman  to  be  found  in  every  boy, 
if  only  he  be  taken  before  his  finer  substance  is  trans- 
muted into  the  ignoble. 

The  Wilmot  lawn,  with  its  protecting  wall,  its  thick, 
dark  elms  and  oaks,  and  its  smooth,  fragrant  sod, 
became  by  the  space  of  four  hours  on  that  high  holiday 
a  paradise  to  six  boys,  and  not  less  so  to  one  dark- 
haired,  handsome-faced  young  man.  From  the  bal- 
cony of  the  great  house  which  overlooked  it  other 
and  older  eyes  watched  the  scene.  A  flying  trapeze, 
a  punch  bag,  swings,  and  hurdle  stakes  completed  the 
outdoor  gymnasium ;  while  a  table  of  generous  length 
and  width,  over  which  hung  numerous  paper  lanterns, 
red,  white,  and  blue,  showed  where  the  luncheon  was 
to  appear  later.  In  a  dark  corner  at  one  end  of  the 


A  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  87 

long  veranda — the  very  corner  in  which  Harry  Wilmot 
had  heard  his  call — was  stretched  a  square  of  white 
canvas,  on  which  the  magic  lantern  was  to  cast  its 
weird  and  amusing  lights.  For  two  hours  the  shouts 
and  calls  of  rollicking  boyhood  echoed  under  the  trees 
and  about  the  wide  grounds.  When  the  shadows  be- 
gan to  deepen,  two  white-aproned  waiters  came  and 
laid  a  cloth  upon  the  table,  lit  the  lanterns,  and  began 
to  spread  the  luncheon.  Ruddy  and  hungry  from  their 
vaulting,  swinging,  and  bag-punching,  the  boys,  each 
with  a  napkin  across  his  bosom,  fell  to  the  feast;  and 
what  with  salads  and  fruits  and  ices  and  sweets  to 
please  a  boy's  palate,  the  assault  was  worthy  the  zest 
of  the  League  of  Squires.  When  the  repast  was  over, 
a  long  time  they  sat,  like  true  knights,  at  board  while 
they  and  their  leader  exchanged  such  speech  as  be- 
came their  order. 

"That  boy  is  a  profound  mystery  to  me,"  said  Colo- 
nel Wilmot  as  he  and  his  wife  surveyed  from  the 
veranda  the  table  scene  beneath  the  softly  glowing 
lamps.  "He  is  lost  in  unselfishness.  He  could  go 
to  Congress  if  he  would,  but  he  chooses  this  instead. 
There  must  be  something,  even  much,  in  it;  but  I 
don't  understand  it." 

But  the  mother  said:  "Father,  our  boy  but  walks 
in  the  way  in  which  the  Master  walked.  We  shall 
see  one  day  how  wise  he  is." 

"I  believe  in  our  boy,  mother,"  was  the  only  reply 
which  the  successful  rich  man  of  the  world  could 
make;  for  he  was  beginning  to  see  how  much  he  had 
lived  for  himself  and  how  seldom  he  had  thought  of 
others,  especially  of  the  little  ones  of  the  kingdom. 


88  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

That  night  his  eyes  saw  a  vision;  that  night  also  he 
laid  himself  down  to  dream  in  a  new  purpose  of  life. 

While  the  branches  and  crowns  of  the  great  trees 
flashed  to  the  explosion  of  rockets  and  mimic  cannon, 
Wilmot  heard  the  louder  roar  and  rabblement  of  the 
street,  and  silently  gave  thanks  that  those  whom  he 
had  made  his  own  were  safe  from  the  temptations  that 
beset  the  unbridled  freedom  without.  In  an  im- 
promptu chorus  he  and  his  Squires  sang,  "My  country, 
'tis  of  thee,"  and  at  nine  o'clock  five  boys  were  seen 
aboard  the  big  avenue  trolley  car  in  front  of  the  Wil- 
mot mansion  and  started  homeward,  with  Wilmot  and 
Kinky  waving  a  good  night. 

Sabbath  after  Sabbath  the  afternoon  bugle  blew  at 
the  gate  of  the  Castle  of  Arms,  and  the  Squires  filed 
in  to  sit  at  their  Round  Table  and  hear  and  talk  with 
their  leader.  Many  a  confession  of  fault  and  failure 
and  many  a  pledge  and  taste  of  higher  things  marked 
their  communion  together  as  they  sat  under  their  Mal- 
tese banner  clothed  with  the  insignia  of  Squires.  Many, 
too,  were  the  holy  and  the  brave  words  which  were 
read  and  spoken  to  them  by  their  leader,  and  ever 
more  and  more  he  drew  their  hearts  toward  him  in 
loyalty  and  love. 

Autumn  came  and  lifted  its  red  banners  a  little  while 
over  the  hill  slopes  in  Applegate  Wood,  and  to  the 
dropping  of  nuts  the  Squires  kept  their  fellowship 
and  had  their  converse;  but  when  winter  grew  frosty 
and  made  the  winds  too  chill  to  be  braved,  they  met 
in  a  little  chamber  behind  Wilmot's  offices  in  the  Apple- 
gate  Building,  where  there  was  the  cheer  of  a  red-hot 


4  YEAR  AND  A  DAY.  89 

stove  and  the  glow  of  two  big  gas  jets.  Strange 
things  were  happening  in  the  lives  of  the  other  Squires 
besides  Kinky,  who  was  now  regularly  at  school. 
Granger  was  industriously  taking  the  course  at  the 
night  school,  and  was  slowly  conquering  the  intricacies 
of  English  grammar.  Jimmy  Glenn's  mother  had 
been  visited  by  Wilmot,  and  Jimmy  also  had  been  pro- 
vided for  in  the  night  school,  his  employer  having  been 
persuaded  to  agree  to  his  detention  only  up  to  the  law- 
ful hour  of  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Perhaps  Wil- 
mot's  greater  service  in  the  interest  of  his  Squirehood 
was  to  secure  from  the  State  Assembly  a  statute  on 
child  labor,  which  benefited  thousands  of  children  in 
the  State,  and  which  particularly  put  Mac  Pooley,  the 
overworked  child  of  the  cotton  mill,  into  the  public 
school  and  his  father  into  the  sizing  room  and  finally 
into  a  foremanship,  where  he  easily  earned  a  decent 
support  for  his  family.  As  for  Sim  Phillips  and 
Tommy  Biles,  the  notable  changes  in  their  cases  were 
better  work  at  school,  growing  gentlemanly  habits, 
and  an  improved  life  at  home.  This  resulted  in  visits 
from  the  parents  of  each  to  the  'young  attorney  at  his 
office  to  express  gratitude  for  something — a  secret 
undiscoverable — in  the  lives  of  their  sons  which  was 
not  only  transforming  them  but  was  reacting  upon 
the  homes  of  which  they  had  before  been  the  chief 
concern. 

Steadily  and  quietly  Wilmot  kept  his  course,  work- 
ing always  toward  his  ideal  which  was  most  definitely 
set  before  him.  So  the  months  passed,  and  it  was 
summer  again.  The  fields  under  the  nodding  groves 
of  Applegate  Wood  were  ripening,  and  the  growing 


9<3  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

city  was  thrusting  its  ever-extending  hands  a  little 
nearer  toward  the  ferny  hill  slopes.  A  year  and  a 
day  had  passed,  and  the  bugle  was  blowing  at  the 
gate  of  the  Castle  of  Arms,  and  the  Squires  were  pass- 
ing in  to  take  their  vows  and  be  made  Knights  of  the 
King. 


VII. 
THE  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE. 

IT  was  an  afternoon  in  June,  not  an  afternoon  of 
the  Sabbath,  but  of  a  day  in  midweek.  The  full  leaf- 
age of  summer  was  swinging  its  shadows  across  the 
gateway  of  the  Castle  of  Arms  in  the  most  romantic 
Applegate  Wood.  Five  members  of  the  League  of 
Squires  were  making  a  huge  heap  of  dry  tree  branches 
in  an  open  space  a  rod  away  from  the  Castle  gate. 
They  were  also  improvising  several  rustic  seats  about 
in  which  they  might  sit  and  watch  the  bonfire  when 
the  dry  mass  should  be  given  to  the  flame.  They  were 
already  fancying  to  themselves  what  an  illumination 
they  should  see  there  amongst  the  trees  and  cliffs  when 
the  darkness  was  deep  and  still. 

"She'll  be  a  glory  when  the  flames  shoot  up,"  sug- 
gested Sim  Phillips  as  he  sat  fanning  himself  after 
the  exertion  of  helping  to  create  the  wooden  pyramid. 

"That's  what,"  returned  Tommy  Biles,  measuring 
the  heap  with  his  eyes. 

"It'll  be  like  a  house  a-fire,"  ventured  Jimmy  Glenn, 
his  fancy  becoming  active  with  the  rest. 

"Let's  put  a  dry  chestnut  log  on  top,"  eagerly  pro- 
posed Mac  Pooley;  "it'll  pop  like  a  thousand  muskets 
when  the  fire  reaches  it." 

"Agreed!"  cried  the  other  four  boys,  including 
Kinky;  and  together  they  set  off  to  inspect  the  fallen 
trees  of  the  adjacent  wood.  They  had  not  been  out 
long  when  they  came  upon  the  thing  they  sought,  a 


92  THE   GANG   OP  SIX. 

chestnut  butt,  hard  as  flint  and  hoary  from  having 
long  suffered  the  rain  and  the  sun.  It  proved  a  load 
to  move,  but  by  dint  of  effort  they  at  last  had  it  at 
the  heap  and  then  squarely  upon  the  top. 

"It'll  take  Mr.  Wilmot  and  Granger  by  surprise 
when  it  begins  to  bombard,"  said  Sim  in  elation. 

"Won't  it,  though?"  answered  Mac,  pleased  at  the 
thought  of  his  own  ingenuity  in  suggesting  the  plan. 

The  other  boys  chuckled  with  satisfaction  at  what 
they  fancied  would  take  place  when  the  bonfire  was 
on.  They  would  have  cheered  a  little,  but  they  re- 
membered that  Wilmot  and  Granger  were  inside  the 
Castle  making  ready  for  a  high  ceremonial  that  was 
soon  to  take  place  there.  This  ceremonial  was  only 
half  a  secret  to  the  boys  without;  but,  although  they 
so  nearly  knew  what  was  on  hand,  they  yet  looked 
forward  with  keenest  interest  to  the  developments  of 
the  evening.  For  six  months  they  had  not  been  once 
inside  the  Castle.  Its  gate  had  been  locked,  and  silence 
had  kept  both  it  and  the  woods  and  cliffs  about.  But, 
although  they  had  been  so  long  absent  from  it,  it  had 
lost  nothing  of  its  meaning  to  the  members  of  the 
League  of  Squires.  It  was  always  to  them  the  high 
place  of  mystery  and  sanctity,  and  it  was  now  to  be- 
come additionally  mysterious  and  sacred.  Lingering 
about  their  wood  and  in  their  Castle  until  the  twilight 
deepened  into  night,  the  League  of  Squires,  with  a 
ceremony  befitting,  were  to  become  the  League  of 
Knights.  Departing  their  Castle  thereafter,  they  were 
to  light  their  watch  fire,  and  in  the  deep  wood  were 
to  hold  their  last  council  before  going  forth  to  fight  in 
the  King's  wars. 


THE  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE.  93 

tt 

The  city  quarters  of  the  Squires  had  been  made  a 
high  place  too.  The  two  chambers  behind  Wilmot's 
office  had  been  fitted  up  with  reference  to  their  needs. 
The  rear  room  was  devoted  to  their  secret  meetings. 
There  was  a  rug  on  the  floor,  some  pictures  on  the 
walls,  the  needed  number  of  chairs,  a  long  table — 
just  as  in  the  cave — and  also  the  closet  against  the  wall. 
To  this  closet  had  been  transported,  in  a  most  secret 
way,  the  contents  of  the  closet  in  the  cave;  but  to- 
night, and  in  an  equally  mysterious  way,  these  contents 
were  back  in  their  old  place  in  the  Castle  of  Arms. 
The  front  chamber  boasted  a  rug  also,  pictures,  a 
settle,  some  easy-chairs,  a  fair-sized  bookcase  full  of 
books  for  boys  (new  books  and  the  best  to  be  had), 
and  a  table  loaded  with  pictures  and  boys'  magazines 
and  papers.  It  was  a  boy's  literary  paradise,  and  yet 
each  time  the  Squires  had  met  there  they  thought  of 
the  wood  and  the  cave.  They  sniffed  in  fancy  the 
woodland  airs,  and  thought  of  how  they  had  kept  their 
secrets  in  the  place  where  the  robbers  used  to  hide.  It 
was  a  boy's  fondness,  and  natural,  this  love  of  wild 
places  and  the  interior  of  caves  and  dark  haunts.  They 
were  again  to  see  the  inside  of  their  mighty  hold; 
were  again  to  sit  about  the  "round  table"  where  they 
had  been  made  Squires  of  the  King  and  where  awaited 
them  that  else  which  they  did  not  altogether  compre- 
hend. They  did  not  have  long  to  wait;  for  scarcely 
had  they  dropped  into  the  rustic  seats,  their  faces 
aglow  from  the  effort  of  heaving  up  the  chestnut  butt, 
than  they  heard  the  Castle's  "tongue"  calling  them  to 
the  gate. 

Granger  had  become  expert  in  blowing  the  ware}- 


94  THE   GANG  OF  SIX. 

er's  horn.  He  had  largely  divided  his  time  between 
that  instrument  and  the  study  of  grammar,  and  had 
made  a  nearly  equal  progress  in  both  directions.  In 
fact,  it  began  to  be  plain  that  Granger  had  parts,  for 
he  found  the  flute  as  easy  a  conquest  as  the  horn.  By 
reason  of  this  last  accomplishment  he  was  becoming 
the  minstrel  of  the  League,  and  many  an  evening  of 
the  former  "gang"  was  passed  in  listening  to  the  soft 
notes  which  he  blew  from  the  hollow  of  his  flute. 
Now  he  put  the  horn  to  his  lips,  and  the  leafy  silence 
of  Applegate  Wood  and  the  cliffs  about,  dusky  in 
deepening  twilight,  answered  in  rhythmic,  dulcet 
echoes,  "dying,  dying,  dying." 

Up  the  rude  stair  with  dignified  and  measured  steps 
went  the  five  Squires  who  a  few  moments  before  had 
been  but  rollicking  boys.  What  they  saw  as  they  en- 
tered the  hall  of  their  Castle  did  not  astonish,  but  it 
pleased  them  none  the  less.  The  cave  had  become  a 
banquet  chamber,  graced  with  such  a  feast  as  became 
the  time  and  place.  The  state  table  had  been  cov- 
ered with  a  bright  damask  cloth,  candles  burned  bright- 
ly in  high  brass  sticks,  and  in  old  pewter  stands  were 
displayed  the  fruits  of  June.  On  a  platter  of  the  same 
metal  were  plentiful  slices  of  cold  meats,  while  a  wood- 
en trencher  was  piled  high  with  loaves  of  brown  bread 
thinly  sliced  to  the  clinging  crust  which  held  them  in 
apparent  wholeness.  A  flavor  of  cut  limes  pervaded 
the  place,  and  a  glance  at  the  center  of  the  table 
showed  a  huge  bowl  filled  with  frappe  on  the  surface 
of  which  floated  thin  and  tempting  slices  of  the  afore- 
said limes.  The  banquet  was  no  more  in  kind  than  a 
cottager  might  spread  upon  his  board;  but  under  this 


THE  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE.  95 

roof  of  nature,  amid  the  glow  of  these  mysterious 
lights  and  with  these  feudal-day  surroundings,  it 
seemed  the  spread  of  some  grim  baron  to  his  retainers. 
Whence  had  it  come?  Not  even  Granger  had  seen  it 
placed,  for  when  he  and  Wilmot  entered  the  board 
was  already  spread  and  the  candles  burning.  When 
this  became  known  to  the  other  Squires,  there  was 
wonder  with  many  quiet  conjectures.  Wilmot  had 
gone  out  with  the  "gang."  He  could  not  therefore 
have  done  it,  reasoned  the  boys.  Did  the  cave  really 
have  its  genii,  and  were  they  under  the  control  of  this 
lover  of  boys?  Did  he  have  power  to  call  back  old 
days  and  command  feasts  like  this  from  unseen  hands  ? 
Something  like  this — perhaps  something  even  more 
vague — the  boys  asked  themselves,  but  waited  for  a 
further  answer. 

When  the  Squires  were  all  gathered  about  the  table 
in  the  manner  before  described — that  is,  with  Granger 
at  the  end  on  the  right,  Sim  at  the  opposite  end,  and 
the  other  four  at  the  side  fronting  him — Wilmot,  still 
standing,  said :  "Worthy  Squires,  it  is  now  a  year  and  a 
a  day  since  we  first  sat  together  about  this  'round 
table/  It  was  then  that  you  became  Squires  of  the 
King,  vowing  the  vow  of  obedience.  In  seeking  to 
learn  the  King's  will  you  have  met  many  temptations, 
and  have  not  always  overcome.  But  the  King  is  kind, 
and  will  make  you  strong  if  you  earnestly  try  to  keep 
his  words.  To-night  in  our  good  Castle  of  Arms  you 
are  to  be  made  Knights  of  the  King."  With  that  he 
turned,  opened  the  closet  door,  and  displayed  to  the 
gaze  of  the  Squires  a  sight  that  moved  them  to  quiet 
applause.  There  hung  their  six  blue  silk  sashes  with 


96  THE   GANG   OF   SIX. 

the  open  book  in  white  silk  wrought  upon  each,  the 
sign  of  a  Squire;  but  above  the  book  now  appeared, 
also  in  white  silk,  the  outline  of  a  sword,  the  sign  of 
a  Knight.  These  sashes  Wilmot  took  down  in  the 
old  order  and,  beginning  with  Granger  and  Sim,  placed 
one  over  the  shoulder  of  each  boy,  saying:  "To  the 
sign  of  a  Squire  you  have  added  the  sign  of  a  Knight. 
I  greet  you  as  a  Knight  of  the  King.  And  now  let 
us  take  meat,  for  we  are  to  ride  a  long  journey  in  the 
service  of  the  King." 

The  Squires  being  all  seated,  Wilmot  rapped  loudly 
upon  the  table,  when  out  of  the  darkness  of  the  farther 
cave  came  two  dusky  figures,  white-aproned  and  armed 
with  platters.  Their  white  serving  suits  gave  them 
for  a  moment  a  ghostly  aspect;  but  they  were  quickly 
recognized  as  domestics  of  the  Wilmot  home,  and  so 
the  mystery  of  the  troglodyte  feast  was  explained. 
These  domestics  had  been  sent  to  the  Castle  by  Wilmot 
in  the  earlier  hours  of  the  afternoon.  They  carried 
each  a  capacious  hamper  from  the  depths  of  which  the 
service  and  the  viands  had  been  produced.  In  per- 
fect silence  they  served  the  new-made  Knights,  thus 
deepening  the  mystery  of  the  hour.  Wilmot  led  and 
directed  the  discourse,  but  it  was  confined  to  simple 
narratives  of  hope  and  truth  and  duty.  It  especially 
turned  upon  the  promises  made  to  those  who  from 
orphanhood,  poverty,  or  ignorance  had  climbed  up- 
ward to  seats  of  service  and  nobleness.  The  Squires 
listened  long  and  gladly,  the  simple  viands  were  par- 
taken of  heartily,  the  cup  of  blameless  cheer  was 
pledged,  and  so  the  high  feast  was  ended.  Then  si- 
lently as  before  those  dusky  ministrants  cleared  the 


THE.  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE.  97 

board,  and,  putting  service  and  fragments  of  the  feast 
into  the  two  hampers,  they  folded  the  cloths  into  the 
same  and,  passing  out  through  the  gate,  which  Granger 
opened,  descended  the  oaken  stairway  and  disappeared 
in  the  darkness. 

When  order  again  obtained  in  the  Castle  and  Gran- 
ger had  returned  to  his  seat  at  the  table,  Wilmot 
arose  and,  opening  the  other  section  of  the  closet 
against  the  wall,  the  newly  made  Knights  saw  what 
was  more  than  ever  pleasing  to  them.  In  the  closet 
they  not  only  beheld  their  Maltese  banner  and  the 
heavy  sword  which  they  had  been  accustomed  to  see 
on  the  table  before  them  at  their  councils,  but  they  saw 
beside  them  six  small  swords — light  and  slender  ones, 
but  real  blades  of  steel.  The  banner  Wilmot  gave  to 
Granger  to  fix  as  usual  over  the  board,  the  great  sword 
he  laid  in  its  accustomed  place  on  the  table,  but  the 
lighter  swords  he  girded  one  upon  each  of  the  new- 
made  Knights,  saying  to  each  as  he  did  so:  "Sir 
Knight,  arise,  and  in  the  name  of  the  King  do  val- 
iantly." Then  a  long  time  he  showed  the  young 
Knights  how  to  use  their  swords,  how  to  fence  and 
parry  the  blows  of  their  opponents,  and  how  to  be 
merciful  to  an  enemy  when  he  was  fallen.  It  was 
a  great  time  for  the  boys,  and  each  one  felt  himself  a 
true  Knight  and  set  to  be  a  "Christ  helper"  and  a 
righter  of  the  wrongs  of  the  world.  The  dusky  cave 
roof  echoed  to  the  clinking  sounds  of  their  slender 
blades  and  to  their  footfalls  as  they  marched  round 
and  round  in  their  Castle  of  Arms. 

"Now,"  said  Wilmot  when  their  lights  were  again 
burning  low  and  they  were  seated  at  the  "round  table" 
7 


98  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

for  a  last  talk  together,  "we  will  now  hear  the  high 
words  which  tell  us  what  Knights  of  the  King  should 
be."  Thus  saying,  he  read  slowly  and  impressively 
these  lines: 

My  Knights  are  sworn  to  vows 
Of  utter  hardihood,  utter  gentleness, 
And  loving,  utter  faithfulness  in  love, 
And  uttermost  obedience  to  the  King. 

"So  were  pledged  the  Knights  who  served  and  fought 
for  an  earthly  king,"  said  Wilmot,  "and  this  is  read 
from  a  book  which  is  but  an  earthly  song.  But  for 
the  true  word  to  guide  us  in  the  service  of  the  great 
King  Christ  we  must  search  the  King's  own  Book." 

There  was  reverent  attention  as  Wilmot  turned  the 
pages  of  his  Bible  and,  finding  the  place  he  had  pre- 
viously marked,  read  as  follows :  "  'The  night  is  far 
spent,  the  day  is  at  hand:  let  us  therefore  cast  off 
the  works  of  darkness,  and  let  us  put  on  the  armor  of 
light ;'  'For  the  weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal, 
but  mighty  through  God  to  the  putting  down  of 
strongholds ;'  'Wherefore  take  unto  you  the  whole  ar- 
mor of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  withstand  in  the 
evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to  stand.  Stand  there- 
fore, having  your  loins  girt  about  with  truth,  and  hav- 
ing on  the  breastplate  of  righteousness;  and  your  feet 
shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace; 
above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye 
shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked. 
And  take  the  helmet  of  salvation,  and  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of  God ;'  'Watch  ye,  stand 
fast  in  the  faith,  quit  you  like  men,  be  strong.' " 

Having  finished   the   reading,   Wilmot  placed  the 


THE  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE.  99 

Book  open  upon  the  table  and,  laying  the  sword  across 
the  Book,  said:  "Here  are  now  two  swords — one  the 
sword  of  man,  the  other  the  sword  of  God's  Spirit. 
These  two  you  have  wrought  on  your  sashes.  The 
sword  of  steel  is  given  you  to  remind  you  of  the  spir- 
itual sword.  When  you  were  Squires  only,  you  had 
no  sword  of  steel,  you  were  then  learning  to  obey  the 
King;  now  that  you  have  learned  what  it  is  to  obey, 
you  have  the  sword  to  show  you  that  you  must  fight 
against  evil.  When  you  have  temptations,  you  must 
use  your  sword  on  the  tempter.  If  you  are  tempted 
to  evil  thoughts,  remember  what  the  King's  word  is: 
'Let  the  meditations  of  my  heart  be  acceptable  in  thy 
sight.'  If  the  temptation  is  to  indulge  evil  and  sinful 
words,  give  the  tempter  this  edge  of  the  Sword:  'Let 
no  corrupt  communication  proceed  out  of  your  mouth. 
.  .  .  Neither  filthiness  nor  foolish  talking.'  And 
how  many  edges  has  that  sword  and  how  always  ready 
it  is  to  our  use!"  concluded  Wilmot  as  he  earnestly 
regarded  the  young  Knights  before  him.  After  a 
little  space  of  silence,  he  said:  "It  is  now  only  for  us 
to  say  a  last  word.  Are  all  the  Knights  ready  to  take 
the  Knight's  vow?"  At  that  all  the  boys  arose  and 
lifted  their  hands  in  token,  whereupon  Wilmot  said, 
and  they  repeated  after  him,  these  words:  "I  vow  to 
be  a  true  Knight  and  soldier  of  my  Lord  and  King  the 
Christ.  I  will  be  obedient,  by  his  help,  to  keep  his 
word,  will  serve  and  help  in  his  cause,  and  will  seek 
always  to  think  only  his  thoughts  and  speak  as  will 
please  him.  I  ask  for  a  pure  heart  and  for  clean 
hands  and  lips." 

For  no  little  while  the  whole  company  stood  silently 


ioo  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

and  thought  on  their  vow,  then  at  a  word  they  were 
all  seated  and  Wilmot  said :  "We  have  now  come  to  the 
place  where  we  must  begin  to  help  others.  A  year 
and  more  we  have  lived  together  as  Squires  and  broth- 
ers ;  now  we  are  Knights  and  must  be  'Christ  helpers.' 
Each  Knight  of  you  must  now  choose  from  amongst 
his  friends  a  boy  to  become  his  Squire — that  is,  a 
Squire  in  his  place — for  every  Knight  must  have  a 
Squire  whom  he  can  teach  and  train  in  noble  thoughts 
and  words  that  he  also  may  become  a  Knight.  There 
will  then  be  twelve  of  you — six  Knights  and  six 
Squires — and  that  is  the  perfect  number.  There  were 
twelve  disciples  of  the  Christ  who  is  our  King,  and 
King  Arthur  had  twelve  great  Knights  and  fought 
twelve  great  battles.  Does  it  please  our  Knights  to 
choose  them  each  a  Squire  to  take  part  with  us  in 
the  League?" 

The  response  to  this  proposition  was  most  enthu- 
siastic, a  hearty  roll  of  "aye,  ayes"  echoing  through  the 
cave. 

"We  will  make  new  Squires  at  our  Sunday  after- 
noon meeting  in  our  Chapter  room  in  the  city,"  said 
Wilmot,  amid '  the  exuberant  demonstration  of  his 
Knights. 

"And  I  know  already  who'll  be  my  Squire,"  spoke 
up  Granger  in  earnest  tones. 

"And  I,"  "And  I,"  said  another  and  another;  and 
so  they  all  said  and  rejoiced  with  inward  satisfaction  at 
the  prospect  of  bringing  others  into  their  fellowship. 
In  the  spirit  of  this  joy  they  took  leave  of  their  Castle 
of  Arms  and  descended  to  the  fragrant  groves  below, 
where,  kindling  their  camp  fire,  they  saw  the  giant 


THE  KNIGHT'S  DEGREE.  101 

trees  and  the  towering  cliffs  stand  out  in  the  resplen- 
dence of  its  glow.  While  Granger  blew  the  flute  to 
familiar  airs  they  sang,  following  the  lead  of  Wilmot, 
the  songs  which  they  had  learned  in  the  year  and  a 
day  of  their  close  and  faithful  association.  The  forest 
reaches  and  the  hollow  cliffs  answered  the  notes,  and 
the  stars  far  off  in  the  blue  seemed  to  twinkle  in  a 
concert  of  praise.  With  a  roar  of  flame  and  emitting 
huge  columns  of  upward-flying  sparks,  the  wooden 
pyramid  sank  in  its  own  ashes,  carrying  downward  the 
cap  log  of  chestnut.  As  the  fresh  flames  took  hold 
upon  it  the  expected  bombardment  began,  and  to  the 
salvos  of  the  exploding  trunk  the  Knights  and  their 
leader  wended  their  way  downward  through  the  wood- 
land, whose  shadows  still  answered  to  the  risings  and 
fallings  of  the  expiring  watch  fire. 


VIII. 
THE  PERFECT  NUMBER. 

THE  day  following  the  Knight-making  and  the  bon- 
fire-kindling at  the  Castle  of  Arms  brought  to  Wilmot 
two  interesting  communications,  one  of  them  bristling 
with  mystery.  The  first  came  to  hand  at  the  break- 
fast table,  at  which,  being  late,  he  found  under  his 
plate  a  check  for  two  hundred  dollars  signed  by  his 
father  and  accompanied  by  a  brief  note  which  read: 
"This  is  for  your  boys.  God  bless  you."  That  was 
Colonel  Wilmot's  way.  He  was  not  easily  moved; 
but  when  moved,  he  evidenced  it  in  no  doubtful  man- 
ner. This  was  not  the  first  check  Harry  had  had  from 
his  father  during  his  "year  and  a  day"  of  "making 
men,"  but  it  was  the  largest,  many  times  over.  In 
some  way  the  elder  Wilmot  had  got  into  the  secret 
of  the  previous  night's  doings  and  of  the  proposal  to 
double  the  number  of  the  former  clan.  He  had  also 
occasionally  peeped  into  the  Chapter  rooms  of  the 
League  of  Squires  behind  his  son's  offices  in  the  tall 
Applegate  Building.  Like  the  human  thermometer 
he  was,  his  interest  had  risen,  degree  after  degree,  as 
he  in  proportion  became  inclosed  by  the  argument  of 
what  he  saw  and  felt.  He  was  a  watchful,  business- 
like old  gentleman,  one  who  carefully  studied  things 
and  then  determined  their  value.  He  had  followed 
Harry's  work  with  "his  boys,"  but  had  felt  at  the 
beginning  that  it  was  wholly  chimerical — such,  in  fact, 
as  only  a  dreamer  like  Harry  Wilmot  would  under- 


THE  PERFECT  NUMBER.  103 

take.  When  Kinky  had  been  brought  into  the  home, 
he  only  half  consented,  and  that  through  the  influence 
of  Harry's  mother ;  but  by  the  end  of  a  week  he  had 
been  taken  by  Kinky,  to  whom  at  last  his  heart  turned 
in  a  constant  stream  of  doting  and  affection.  When 
he  came  to  know  about  the  transitions  equally  marked 
in  the  lives  of  the  other  boys,  he  gave  his  first  financial 
token  of  committal  to  the  idea.  In  time  this  token 
was  repeated  advertently  but  quietly.  Even  now  he 
allowed  his  real  interest  in  the  matter  to  be  fully  pen- 
erated  by  nobody,  not  even  his  wife.  But  could  one 
have  read  his  thoughts  in  connection  therewith,  the 
revelation  had  been  one  to  please  and  instruct  exceed- 
ingly. They  went  this  way  as  he  walked  briskly  that 
morning  from  the  breakfast  table  toward  his  office, 
"I  might  easily  now  set  aside  a  hundred  thousand  with- 
out injury  to  my  business — yes,  even  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand!  That  would  start  the  scheme  well;  it 
would  buy  the  farm  and  the  wood,  and  erect  such  a 
building  for  school  purposes  as  would  be  at  first  need- 
ed. Then  in  my  final  will  I  could  provide  for  the 
remainder.  I  can  at  best  count  on  no  more  than  ten 
years  remaining  to  me  of  my  life.  Such  a  boys'  school 
as  I  have  a  vision  of  has  not  been  heard  of  before.  It 
would  make  men — true  men,  honorable  and  successful 
— out  of  what  is  now  the  merest  waste  and  leakage  of 
society,  the  boys  that  grow  up  only  to  make  drones 
and  criminals.  I'll  do  it!  but  I  must  wait  to  see  a 
little  further  into  what  Harry  is  doing.  I  believe  in 
Harry.  Blessed  boy!  you  don't  know  what  you  have 
done  to  save  your  old  father's  heart  from  utter  selfish- 
ness;" and,  wiping  a  glad  tear  or  two  from  his  eyes, 


104  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

the  gray-haired  capitalist  walked  on  down  the  wide 
avenue  toward  the  city. 

Colonel  Wilmot  was  a  great  walker.  He  boasted 
that  he  had  kept  himself  young  and  healthy  through 
this  form  of  exercise.  He  scouted  cabs  and  trolley 
cars,  except  in  weather  too  foul  for  walking.  Once  or 
twice  in  his  walk  cityward  this  morning  he  paused  and 
looked  far  away,  regarding  the  prospect  of  the  hills. 
He  was  thinking  of  Applegate  Wood  and  of  wide  fields 
and  rolling  grass  meadows  in  the  foreground;  and  as 
he  thought  fancy  was  building  tall,  gray  stone  dormi- 
tories and  a  high  and  castellated  hall  between  in  the 
lap  of  the  wood  where  the  sod  was  green  under  the 
shadows  of  great  oaks  and  elms.  Prophecy  and  His- 
tory were  walking  or  standing  arm  in  arm  with  the 
man  of  doubloons,  abetting  in  that  bright  June  morn- 
ing his  dream  of  nobleness  and  urging  him  to  a  de- 
cision. 

Meantime  Harry  Wilmot,  having  hastily  finished 
his  breakfast  and  finding  himself  late  beyond  his  wont, 
boarded  a  trolley  which  chanced  to  be  passing  just  as 
he  emerged  from  the  lawn  gate.  Two-thirds  of  the 
way  to  the  city  the  trolley  passed  the  elder  Wilmot  pur- 
suing his  thoughtful  journey.  The  son  waved  a  to- 
ken and  kissed  his  hand  to  the  sire,  who  returned  the 
greeting  affectionately  and  smiled  with  satisfaction. 

Ten  minutes  later  Harry  Wilmot  sat  at  his  office 
table  reading  the  morning  mail.  Coming  across  a 
foreign-looking  envelope  addressed  in  a  pronouncedly 
foreign  hand,  he  held  it  up,  exclaiming,  "Umph ! 
What  can  this  mean?  It's  a  woman's  hand  too,  as 
I  believe.  It's  from  a  distance  off  also — Tittsburg 


THE  PERFECT  NUMBER.  105 

— Pittsburg,'  "  he  read,  closely  scrutinizing  the  post- 
mark. "  Tittsburg !'  I've  no  client  there,  I'm  sure." 
Tearing  open  the  seal,  he  read : 

Mr.  Attorney  Wilmot:  I  learn  that  you  have  adopted  an 
orphan  boy  who  was  recently  at  large  upon  the  streets  of  your 
city  and  who  was  known  by  the  name  of  "Kinky."  I  take  it 
that  you  would  like  to  know  something  of  the  parentage  of 
this  child,  and  that  you  would  especially  like  to  learn  of  a 
valuable  secret  in  connection  with  his  orphanhood.  I  as- 
sume that  the  word  "valuable"  can  have  but  one  meaning  to 
both  you  and  me.  If  you  are  willing  to  engage  and  bind  your- 
self legally  to  pay  liberally  for  information  leading  to  the  dis- 
covery of  this  secret,  you  may  address  me  at  the  above-named 
city  through  the  general  delivery. 

Respectfully,  HILDA  JABLONSKI. 

P.  S. — Correspondence  is  useless  except  on  the  basis  of  a 
contract.  H.  J. 

"So!"  exclaimed  Wilmot  to  himself  as  he  laid  the 
letter  down  upon  the  table.  "Here's  another  evidence 
that  there  is  a  deep  mystery  connected  with  Kinky.  I 
have  long  suspected  that;  so  have  others  hereabouts; 
but  this  letter  is  some  sort  of  a  fraud ;  it  would  not  sur- 
prise me  to  discover  that  it  was  written  in  this  very 
building.  There  is  a  fine  Levitic  hand  in  the  cham- 
bers immediately  below  these  that  might  well  have 
done  it.  There  are  two  indications  that  a  woman 
might  have  done  it — the  writing  is  in  a  femininelike 
hand,  and  it  carries  a  postscript.  But  there  is  one  con- 
vincing evidence  that  a  woman  did  not  write  it,  and 
that  is  that  it  was  written  by  a  man.  It  is  a  clever  piece 
of  blackmail ;  but  I  shall  have  a  use  for  it  later.  I  shall 
have  another  interview  with  old  Simon  one  of  these 
days ;"  and  with  that  he  laid  the  letter  away  in  a  secret 
place. 


io6  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

The  Sunday  afternoon  meeting  of  the  League  of 
Knights  was  a  great  occasion.  In  the  front,  or  read- 
ing, room  of  their  Chapter  Wilmot  greeted  twelve 
boys — his  six  Knights  and  the  six  others  whom  they 
had  selected  to  be  their  respective  Squires.  Wilmot 
was  not  wholly  unacquainted  with  these  proposed  new 
members  of  the  League;  but  a  regular  introduction 
was  planned,  and  an  inquiry  was  instituted  into  the 
case  of  each  boy  as  a  preliminary  of  his  reception  into 
membership.  When  they  were  all  seated,  Wilmot 
said :  "When  I  first  became  acquainted  with  the  mem- 
•bers  of  this  League,  it  was  in  the  street,  and  you 
were  all  introduced  by  Granger;  now  we  have  these 
beautiful  chambers  to  which  to  welcome  new  mem- 
bers, and  besides  we  have  our  strong  Castle  of  Arms, 
of  which  they  may  learn  later.  Instead  of  having 
Granger  introduce  those  who  are  now  to  become  mem- 
bers with  us,  I  shall  ask  each  Knight  to  present  his 
own  Squire,  and  let  us  begin  with  Granger  and  go 
down  according  to  the  age  of  each  Knight !" 

If  one  doubts  the  probability  of  the  advance  and 
improvement  credited  to  the  members  of  this  former 
"gang"  as  the  result  of  "a  year  and  a  day"  of  training 
and  leadership  by  a  consecrated  man,  let  him  try  kind- 
ness, industry,  and  the  Galilean  spirit  on  a  company 
of  susceptible  boys,  and  his  skepticism  will  completely 
disappear.  In  all  this  company  none  had  better  illus- 
trated Wilmot's  ideas  of  the  possible  than  Granger, 
the  awkward,  ignorant,  half-ruffian  leader  of  "The 
Gang  of  Six."  The  evangel  of  gentleness  and  per- 
suasion had  come  to  him  at  the  opportune  moment; 
a  year — even  a  six  month — later  had  likely  been  too 


THE  PERFECT  NUMBER.  107 

late.  Mercy  is  a  great  keeper  of  time.  When  Wil- 
mot  had  called  for  the  introduction  of  candidates, 
Granger  arose  at  one  side  of  the  room  and  stood  for  a 
moment.  He  had  grown  full  two  inches  in  stature  dur- 
ing the  year,  and  was  now  considerably  past  fourteen. 
The  latent  gentleman  in  him  had  come  out  marvelous- 
ly.  His  speech  had  changed  from  the  vernacular  of 
the  street  to  that  of  the  thoughtful,  studious  youthhood 
of  the  better  classes.  The  night  school  and  the  Castle 
of  Arms  had  wrought  magically.  He  was  neatly,  if 
plainly,  dressed,  and  stood  erect  like  a  soldier.  Tak- 
ing by  the  arm  a  pleasant- faced,  blue-eyed  lad  of  twelve 
years,  one  evidently,  like  himself,  from  the  lower  walks, 
he  approached  to  where  his  benefactor  sat,  and  said: 
"Mr.  Wilmot,  this  is  my  friend,  Willie  Wages,  who 
works  with  me  at  the  printing  office.  His  father  is  a 
foreman  in  the  bindery.  Willie  wants  to  be  a  Squire. 
He  knows  about  the  King,  and  says  his  prayers  every 
night.  He  will  promise  to  obey  in  all  things,  and  will 
keep  the  King's  commandment." 

Wilmot  arose  and  took  the  lad  by  the  hand.  It  is 
written  in  the  Book  .concerning  the  King  that  when  he 
was  in  the  world  he  saw  a  young  man  and  loved  him ; 
but  that  one  loved  not  the  King's  Word  as  he  should. 
When  Wilmot  had  looked  into  the  open  face  and  clear 
eyes  of  the  child  presented  to  him,  a  strong  impulse 
moved  him  to  lay  his  hand  on  the  bright  young  head 
with  words  of  a  special  benediction.  "Here,"  he 
thought,  "is  a  choice  one  indeed;  here  is  one  sent  us 
specially  of  the  King."  But  who  can  forecast  the  years 
and  make  hope  and  prayer  a  defense  against  chance 
of  evil  and  of  fate?  The  gem  of  rarest  promise  turns 


io8  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

to  dust  or  breaks  into  fragments  on  the  wheel  of  the 
lapidary;  the  seed  sown  in  the  most  propitious  moon 
and  watched  with  most  constant  care  often  suffers 
blight  and  mildew  and  comes  to  naught  before  the  eyes 
of  the  husbandmen.  It  is  not  given  to  mortals  to 
know. 

Holding  still  the  hand  of  the  first  boy  presented, 
Wilmot  received  the  others  in  a  group,  each  Knight 
presenting  the  Squire  for  whom  he  was  sponsor. 

"This  is  my  cousin,  Freddie  Holmes,"  said  Sim 
Phillips  as  he  presented  a  boy  near  his  own  age  and 
much  of  his  favor.  "He  wants  to  be  a  Squire,  and 
will  obey  the  King,"  added  Sim. 

"And  this  is  my  neighbor,  Robert  Mooney ;  he  wants 
to  be  a  Squire,"  said  Tommy  Biles  as  he  introduced 
a  boy  of  nine,  whose  ruddy  face  and  broad  tones  told 
that  he  was  of  Irish  parentage.  "His  folks  goes  to 
the  Catholic  Church,"  explained  Tommy;  "but  they 
don't  object  to  him  being  a  member  of  our  League,  and 
Robert  he  wants  the  worst  sort  to  be  a  Squire." 

"We  welcome  you,  Robert,"  said  Wilmot  in  greet- 
ing, and  then  stood  the  abashed  and  trembling  lad  in 
the  circle  of  the  other  applicants. 

In  his  usually  timid  way  Jimmy  Glenn,  the  widow's 
son,  brought  forward  the  boy  for  whom  he  was  to  be 
sponsor,  a  thin-faced  child,  with  light,  scant  hair,  like 
himself.  "His  name's  Pete,"  said  Jimmy  in  introduc- 
tion— "Pete  Singler;  he's  just  come  from  the  country, 
where  I  used  to  live.  I  want  him  to  be  a  Squire  so 
he  won't  be  tempted  to  do  wrong  as  I  was  when  I  first 
come  to  the  city." 

Wilmot  cast  a  most  approving  look  on  the  most 


THE  PERFECT  NUMBER.  109 

timid  of  his  Knights  in  recognition  of  this  speech,  and 
received  cordially  the  Squire  to  be.  And  now  came 
Mack  Pooley,  the  boy  to  whom,  next  to  Kinky,  the 
League  had  perhaps  been  the  greatest  blessing,  having 
saved  him  from  the  slavery  and  martyrdom  of  the  cot- 
ton mill  and  put  him  in  the  way  of  education  and  train- 
ing for  life. 

"This  is  Joseph  Pontos,  who  used  to  work  with  me 
in  the  mill,"  said  Mack  as  he  presented  a  distinct  type 
of  Greek  boy  and  one  very  near  his  own  age.  "Joe's 
folks  used  to  go  to  the  Greek  Church  in  New  York, 
so  he  says ;  but  they  don't  have  any  Church  here,  and 
Joe  wants  to  be  my  Squire,  so  they  let  him  come." 

"  'Every  kindred  and  tongue  and  people,'  "  repeated 
Wilmot  as  he  received  the  Greek  boy  into  the  circle  of 
the  others.  "May  this  prove  to  be  another  Timothy !" 
he  added  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  child's  head. 

The  last  of  the  Knights  to  appear  was  Kinky.  His 
choice  of  Squires  had  certainly  been  no  secret  to  Wil- 
mot. Together  they  had  talked  it  over,  and  for  many 
reasons  the  choice  was  approved  by  Wilmot.  That 
choice  was  none  other  than  the  nine-year-old  son  of 
old  Simon,  the  peddler.  In  his  newsboy  days  Kinky 
and  little  Moses  Simon  had  been  playmates  as,  with 
unsold  papers  or  shoe  brush  lacking  a  customer,  the  or- 
phan loitered  before  old  Simon's  door.  There  was  a 
whisper  too  about  the  streets  that  Kinky,  when  little 
more  than  an  infant,  had  been  thrust,  like  a  callow 
bird,  out  of  old  Simon's  nest  behind  his  shop  and  left 
to  shift  for  himself.  This  whisper  had  led  Wilmot  to 
seek  the  interview  with  old  Simon  which  was  recorded 
in  a.  former  chapter,  Kinky  himself  felt  some  unde- 


no  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

fined  affinity  for  the  Simon  nest;  and  this,  with  his 
fondness  for  little  Moses,  determined  him  in  the  selec- 
tion of  a  Squire. 

Arrayed  in  their  blue  sashes  and  with  their  swords 
girded,  Knight  fashion,  upon  them,  the  six  Knights 
received  their  Squires  in  the  secret  Chapter  room ;  and 
there  the  Squires  took  the  vow  of  obedience,  receiv- 
ing each  also  the  blue  sash  with  the  token  of  a  Squire 
wrought  upon  it.  Sitting  down  then  with  the  twelve 
about  the  "round  table,"  Wilmot  told  again  the  story 
of  the  "Shepherd  Squire"  and  read  from  the  King's 
Book  as  before.  A  golden  sunset  was  sifting  through 
the  windows  when  the  circle  about  the  table  had  fin- 
ished its  talk  and  council  together.  "We  are  now  the 
perfect  number  of  twelve,"  said  Wilmot  when  they 
arose;  "we  must  strive  not  only  to  be  Knights  and 
Squires,  but  in  all  things  we  must  aim  also  to  be  disci- 
ples of  the  King.  That  is  the  best  degree  and  the 
highest."  Saying  which,  he  took  from  the  table  twelve 
prettily  bound  New  Testaments  and  gave  one  to  each 
boy.  "This,"  he  continued,  "is  the  King's  Word ;  look 
into  it  every  day,  and  you  will  know  the  King's  will. 
The  King  will  help  you." 

During  the  week  that  followed  the  making  of  new 
Squires  a  new  room  was  added  to  the  two  which  the 
League  occupied  back  of  Wilmot's  offices.  This  was 
to  be  the  gymnasium  and  the  fencing  room  of  the 
Knights.  When  it  was  filled  up  with  trapezes,  lifts, 
swings,  clubs,  a  bowling  alley,  and  a  bath  like  a  small 
swimming  pool,  it  became  a  joy  indeed.  Every  after- 
noon when  they  had  a  leisure  hour  the  boys,  Squires 
and  Knights,  came  up  to  try  their  muscles  or  take  a  dip. 


THE  PERFECT  NUMBER.  in 

As  time  went  by  Wilmot  permitted  them  to  issue  in- 
vitations to  their  friends  to  use  their  gymnasium. 
Also  they  had  once  each  week  a  chapel  service  in  their 
reading  room  to  which  they  invited  as  many  boys  as 
they  had  room  to  seat.  Thus  it  was  that  the  League 
became  widely  known  amongst  the  younger  boys  of 
the  city,  and  scores  of  them,  enticed  by  the  beautiful 
library,  the  gymnasium,  and  the  bath,  came  to  visit 
them  and  attended  the  service  which  Wilmot,  assisted 
by  the  Knights,  held  once  in  the  week.  This  consisted 
of  songs,  accompanied  by  Granger  on  the  flute,  a 
prayer,  and  a  reading  from  the  "Word  of  the  King," 
and  often  a  short  talk  or  story;  but  generally  it  was 
only  a  reading  by  each  of  the  Knights  in  turn  out  of 
his  New  Testament.  When  there  was  a  secret  meet- 
ing of  the  League,  the  Knights  and  the  Squires  met 
first  together.  After  that  meeting  was  over,  the 
Squires  retired  and  Wilmot  and  the  six  Knights  had  a 
"round  table"  together,  and  then  they  separated. 

After  almost  another  year  had  passed,  Wilmot  said 
to  the  Knights  as  they  sat  together  in  secret  council: 
"We  now  have  with  us  a  good  many  boys  who  would 
like  to  join  our  League.  These  we  can  make  Squires 
prospective — that  is,  those  who  are  waiting  to  be  made 
Squires — and  when  our  six  Squires  are  made  Knights, 
then  we  shall  let  these  that  are  waiting  take  the  vow. 
We  will  then  be  twenty-four  in  all.  You  can  read  in 
the  New  Testament  how  there  were  'four  and  twenty 
elders.'  " 

This  plan  pleased  the  Knights,  and  so  twelve  boys 
were  found  who  desired  to  join  the  League  as  Squires 
prospective.  The  blue  sash  was  given  to  each  of 


H2  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

these,  and  they  attended  with  the  other  Squires,  only 
they  could  not  be  present,  as  the  other  Squires  could 
not,  at  the  ''round  table." 

Thus  the  days  and  the  weeks  went  by.  The  hands 
and  heart  of  Harry  Wilmot  were  filled  with  the  details 
of  his  self-selected  work,  and  he  was  fulfilling  his 
course  with  joy.  As  yet  his  work  was  a  secret  ex- 
cept in  his  own  home  and  in  the  homes  from  which  had 
come  his  strangely  assorted  company  of  "men  in  the 
making."  He  was  too  modest  to  speak  of  it  himself, 
and  so  the  story  had  gotten  but  little  abroad.  Colonel 
Wilmot,  alone  of  those  outside,  had  realized  the  value 
and  potency  of  it,  and  he  was  a  man  whose  reticence 
had  become  a  proverb.  The  pastor  of  the  great  Gothic 
Church,  with  its  thousand  members,  at  which  the  Wil- 
mots  were  attendants,  had  heard  of  it  incidentally ; 
but  he  treated  it  as  of  small  moment,  as  only  one  of 
many  fads,  which  fanciful  and  empirical  religious 
workers  are  given  to  following.  Harry  Wilmot  had 
entered  the  Church  of  his  parents  early  in  life,  and  was 
known  to  his  pastor  as  a  religious  young  man,  but  one 
not  demonstrative  or  desirous  of  special  responsibility. 
He  had  never  asked  to  be  given  any  Church  work  to 
do.  The  pastor  had  often  noted  the  serious,  respon- 
sive face  of  the  young  attorney  as  he  sat  beside  his 
mother  in  the  pew ;  but  he  attributed  the  manifestation 
to  the  studentlike  qualities  of  his  hearer.  Thus  mat- 
ters stood  as  the  second  year  of  Wilmot's  unique  enter- 
prise drew  toward  its  close.  But  a  great  change  was 
near  at  hand  both  for  himself  and  "the  children  God 
had  given  him." 

In  the  meantime  the  homes  of  the  new  Squires  had 


TH£  PERFECT  NUMBER.  113 

been  visited  by  Wilmot.  These  visitations  had  re- 
sulted in  interesting  and,  in  some  cases,  most  unex- 
pected revelations.  One  had  been  sad  and  had  brought 
concern  to  Wilmot's  mind.  Visiting  the  father  of  Wil- 
lie Wages,  the  bright  and  promising  above  all  the 
Knights  and  Squires  of  the  League,  he  found  a  cynical, 
unbelieving  man,  a  patron  of  the  cheap  books  at  the 
race  course,  and  an  evening  frequenter  of  near-by 
beer  shops.  He  showed  little  interest  in  the  hopeful 
departure  of  his  son,  remarking  as  the  sum  of  his  views 
and  feelings:  "Every  tub  must  stand  on  its  own  bot- 
tom. I  have  no  religion  myself;  I  take  a  drink  when 
I  like;  I  do  about  as  I  please  in  other  matters.  My 
son  may  follow  my  example  or  not,  as  he  may  wish." 

"It's  a  hard  road  for  my  Squire,"  sighed  Wilmot  as 
he  walked  away;  and  his  reflections  were  the  sadder 
as  he  had  already  reason  to  fear  that  young  Wages's 
habits  were  not  wholly  up  to  his  pledge.  In  this  he 
was  in  the  confidence  of  Granger. 

At  the  home  of  Robert  Mooney,  the  Irish  Squire, 
Wilmot  found  both  the  father  and  mother  present 
when  he  called  after  hours.  "Coom  in,  Meester  Wil- 
mut,"  said  the  elder  Mooney  when  he  knew  who  his 
caller  was — "coom  in;  me  woif  and  me  has  been  a- 
talkin'  mooch  of  yoursilf  from  heerin'  it  of  the  lad. 
It's  a  foin  business,  that  o'  yourn,  sir — a  foin  business ; 
yez  'ave  got  the  lads,  hearrut  an'  sowl.  It's  a  foin 
business."  And  John  Mooney  rubbed  his  hands  to- 
gether in  token  of  his  pleasure.  He  was  a  machinist 
by  trade,  and  his  home  gave  some  certain  token  of 
being  above  the  dead  level  of  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
laborers  of  his  race.  Presently  Mrs.  Mooney  appeared 


H4  THE   GANG  OF  SIX. 

and  joined  in  an  interview  highly  satisfactory  to  the 
visitor  and  the  visited.  "It's  Catholics  we  be,  sir," 
she  said  as  Wilmot  was  departing ;  "but  we're  not  say- 
in'  there  mayn't  be  good  in  others.  We  want  the  best 
to  coom  to  our  Robert ;  an',  seein'  he  wants  to  be  goin' 
to  the  Protestant  Church,  it's  nayther  his  father  nor 
me  nor  the  priest  as  will  be  preventin'  him." 

At  the  home  of  the  Greek  boy,  Joseph  Pontos,  Wil- 
mot met  nearly  the  same  answer.  "Sure — all  right — 
good,"  said  the  father  of  Joseph.  "Dere  iss  no  Grik 
Church  in  dese  ceety — he  shall  go  to  Protestant  Church 
— you  take  him — all  right — good."  And  the  elder 
Pontos  turned  to  wait  on  a  customer,  for  he  was  the 
proprietor  of  a  small  confectionery  store  on  a  prin- 
cipal street,  and  his  living  apartments  were  somewhere 
amongst  the  labyrinths  of  walls  and  corridors  that  lay 
behind  his  shop. 

In  turn  and  in  like  manner  Wilmot  visited  the  homes 
of  each  of  the  other  new  boys — that  is,  all  except  that 
of  old  Simon,  the  peddler.  Simon  forestalled  that 
visit  by  making  one  to  Wilmot  in  his  office.  "What 
is  it,  Simon?"  asked  Wilmot  when  his  visitor  was 
seated. 

"You  an'  dat  Kinkee  'ave  stole  de  heart  of  my  leetle 
Moses — thadt  boy  he  want  to  go  to  de  Gristian  Church. 
I  have  swear  he  shall  not  go;  but  hees  mamma,  she 
say  he  shall  go,  an'  so  eet  ees;"  and  Simon  shrugged 
his  shoulders  significantly. 

"Well,  how  is  it  to  be?"  asked  Wilmot,  a  little  puz- 
zled by  both  Simon's  air  and  answer. 

"How  ees  eet?"  asked  Simon  half  in  exclamation. 
"Eet  ees  thadt  way.  I  am  Alsace  Chew,  an'  my  wife, 


THE- PERFECT  NUMBER.  115 

she  is  American  Chewess — so  you  see.  Moses  will  go 
to  Gristian  Church.  Thadt  ees  all." 

"Maybe  you  will  come  yourself  some  day,  Simon," 
suggested  Wilmot. 

"No,  I  thingk  thadt  I  will  not — no,  sure  I  will  not. 
Thadt  Moses,  he  is  proud  of  hees  secret  of  de  Squires; 
he  will  not  tell  anythingk  what  he  know.  I  like  thadt 
Squire  beesness — but  I  thingk  I  will  not  go  to  Gristian 
Church — no,  sure,"  and  with  that  Simon  bowed  him- 
self out. 

"Patience,"  murmured  Wilmot  to  himself  when  he 
was  alone.  "I  see  the  end;  there  is  a  mystery  in 
Kinky's  life — it  is  a  good  mystery  too — and  I  shall 
know  it  by  and  by." 

The  next  Sunday  morning  Wilmot  accompanied  by 
twelve  boys,  all  plainly  but  neatly  dressed,  entered  the 
big  Gothic  church  and  sat  in  a  pew  together.  This 
went  on  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath.  The  eyes  of  the 
pastor,  Dr.  Chadborne,  began  to  open.  He  soon  had 
a  proposition  to  make  the  young  attorney. 


IX. 
THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE. 

ANOTHER  year  had  passed,  and  the  Castle  of  Arms 
had  again  welcomed  the  high  fellowship  of  its  Knight- 
ly lords.  The  State  table  had  been  spread,  the  candles 
had  glowed  in  the  semidarkness  until  the  twilight  faded 
into  night.  The  six  Squires  had  been  made  Knights 
with  their  fellows,  and  so  about  the  board  sat  the  per- 
fect number  of  twelve  with  their  leader.  Outside  also 
over  the  char  of  the  former  bonfire  had  been  raised 
another  heap  of  logs  and  fagots  ready  to  blaze  forth 
in  the  watch  fire  of  the  League  of  Twelve. 

As  Wilmot  contemplated  the  completed  circle  of  his 
Knights,  besashed  and  besworded,  under  the  blue  ban- 
ner of  their  order,  he  experienced  a  feeling  of  deepest 
satisfaction.  What  wonders  had  been  wrought  in  two 
years!  Several  of  the  boys  were  growing  tall  and 
were  beginning  to  take  on  something  in  face  and  fea- 
ture which  prophesied  an  early-maturing  manhood. 
Especially  was  this  true  of  Granger,  Sim  Phillips,  and 
Willie  Wages,  Granger's  friend.  Several  of  the  oth- 
ers were  developing  a  vigorous  youthhood.  Abstinence 
from  narcotics,  which  Wilmot  had  been  able  to  secure 
especially  in  the  case  of  the  members  of  the  first 
"gang,"  healthy  athletics,  and  chaste  thinking,  which 
had  come  of  their  select  association,  had  told  on  their 
frames  and  spirits.  Not  a  day  had  he  allowed  the 
boys  to  go  without  attention.  A  committee,  of  which 
he  was  always  the  head,  and  made  up  otherwise  of  two 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  117 

of  the  boys  in  successive  pairs,  instituted  daily  inquiry 
after  the  others.  "I  am  my  brother's  keeper"  was  a 
text  in  gold  letters  which  appeared  in  both  the  reading 
room  and  the  Chapter  chamber  of  the  boys'  meeting 
place  in  the  city.  Kinky  in  two  years  had  grown 
marvelously.  Wholesome  food,  tender  care,  and  the 
atmosphere  of  a  home  pervaded  by  quietness  and  love 
had  turned  back  the  child's  captivity,  and  it  appeared 
that  he  had  not  only  waxed  in  frame  and  spirit  accord- 
ing to  his  nature,  but  had  also  recovered  what  had  been 
lost  to  him  during  the  pitiless  years  of  his  friendless 
orphanhood. 

Wilmot  looked  long  .upon  his  Knights  as  they  con- 
versed and  partook  of  their  phantom-spread  repast. 
Granger  gave  him  perhaps  the  greatest  pride — Gran- 
ger his  lieutenant,  the  Bedivere  of  all  his  Knights ! 
And  not  without  cause  was  this  pride;  for  the  tall, 
fair-looking  youth  had  developed  into  a  manly  fel- 
low, brave  and  honorable  in  motive  and  of  a  devout 
spirit.  He  led  the  prayers  at  their  devotional  meet- 
ings, read  and  expounded  in  unpretentious  terms  their 
brief  Scripture  portions,  and  was  in  all  things  accepted 
by  the  boys  as  their  leader,  next  to  Wilmot.  One  had 
not  thought  it  possible  that  this  was  the  gang  leader 
of  two  years  before.  It  was  this  reflection  that  gave 
Wilmot  satisfaction,  and  so  his  eyes  ran  over  the  ranks 
of  the  first  and  the  last  of  his  clansmen.  Of  Sim  he 
was  also  proud ;  of  Jimmy  Glenn,  the  widow's  son,  he 
had  a  healthy  hope;  Tommy  Biles  was  a  frank  and 
honest  fellow  always  asking  "the  reason  why,"  but 
forging  safely  on ;  Mack  Pooley  struggled  against  en- 
vironment. Wilmot  felt  that  he  feared  for  Mack  in 


n8  THE  GANG  OP  SIX. 

the  end,  but  the  boy  was  confiding  and  faithful  in  word 
and  act.  But  if  the  leader  was  proud  and  hopeful  of 
others,  what  shall  be  said  of  his  feelings  when  his  eyes 
rested  on  Kinky?  Kinky  had  become  his  life — a 
brother's  love  and  more  enshrined  the  child  in  his 
heart.  Apt  in  everything,  bright  beyond  his  years, 
dreamy  but  obedient  and  affectionate,  Kinky  had  been 
a  revelation  in  the  life  of  the  young  man  who  had  loved 
him  with  that  strange  love.  In  this  way  the  eyes  of 
the  leader  passed  also  over  the  six  newer  Knights. 
There  was  not  one  of  all  the  twelve  that  appeared  so 
truly  Knightly  in  face  and  form  as  Willie  Wages,  and 
in  manner  and  spirit  he  excelled  no  less.  Wilmot 
could  never  look  on  the  lad  without  a  feeling  of  most 
genuine  admiration,  yet  a  vague  sense  of  concern  ob- 
truded upon  his  thought  at  every  sight  of  the  fine 
young  face.  The  boy's  future  was,  he  saw,  beset  with 
perils;  but  secretly  he  prayed  and  waited  with  desire. 
This  special  concern  extended  to  at  least  another  of  the 
boys  of  the  newer  group.  He  had  never  quite  got  the 
hold  upon  these  that  he  had  upon  the  first;  but  time 
might  help  him,  he  trusted,  and  so  he  passed  his  eyes 
down  the  list.  The  very  last  of  all  was  little  Moses, 
the  son  of  old  Simon  the  peddler.  The  future  of 
Moses  depended  much  on  what  might  be  done  for  old 
Simon  and  the  mother.  A  strange  thing  had  hap- 
pened in  the  case  of  the  mother.  Regularly,  month 
after  month,  she  had  been  at  the  morning  service  of 
the  Church  where  Moses  attended  with  the  others. 
Wilmot  was  impressed  that  happy  and  surprising 
things  were  about  to  come  to  pass.  He  was  as  one 
walking  on  holy  ground. 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  119 

As  the  Knights  were  about  to  quit  their  Castle  of 
Arms,  their  leader  said:  "We  have  now  outgrown 
our  Castle  in  the  cave,  which  has  been  to  us  so  secure 
and  dear  a  place.  Next  Sabbath  afternoon  at  our 
Chapter  room  in  the  city  we  shall  choose  twelve  new 
Squires.  We  shall  then  be  four  and  twenty,  too  many 
twice  over  to  meet  in  our  Castle  of  Arms ;  but  we  shall 
at  least  once  each  year  come  and  hold  a  council  in  our 
mystic  and  sacred  groves.  We  can  never  forget  Ap- 
plegate  Wood." 

The  boys  appropriately  attested  their  indorsement  of 
this  sentiment  of  their  leader,  and  then  followed  him 
down  the  oaken  stair  into  the  grove,  where  by  the 
glow  of  a  roaring  watch  fire  they  renewed  their  pledge 
and  sang  marching  songs,  led  by  Granger  on  the  flute. 
When  the  glow  of  the  watch  fire  fell  into  the  pallor  of 
its  own  ashes,  the  company  departed  cityward  through 
the  starlit  night. 

The  next  day  Wilmot  had  a  call  from  Dr.  Chad- 
borne  in  his  office  in  the  Applegate  Building.  "I  have 
been  hearing  much  of  your  Boys'  League  of  late,  Mr. 
Wilmot,"  said  the  pastor.  "I  became  interested  when 
I  saw  half  a  dozen  or  so  boys  with  you  in  the  pew 
each  Sabbath;  but  now  my  interest  has  become  so  in- 
tensified that  I  am  moved  to  ask  the  privilege  of  at- 
tending your  gospel  meeting  next  Sunday  afternoon." 

"I  shall  be  doubly  happy  to  have  you  do  so,  Doctor," 
replied  the  young  man,  "and  shall  be  especially  pleased 
to  have  you  say  a  few  words  to  our  boys." 

"That  you  may  count  on  certainly,"  replied  the 
minister ;  and  after  proper  ceremony,  he  was  about  de- 
parting, when  Wilmot  said :  "Our  quarters  are  on  this 


120  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

floor,  immediately  behind  my  office.  I  shall  be  happy 
to  have  you  inspect  them,  Doctor." 

Slowly  and  wonderingly  the  pastor  permitted  him- 
self to  be  led  through  the  reading  room,  the  gymna- 
sium, and  the  private  Chapter  room  of  the  League  of 
Knights  and  Squires.  "Admirable!  admirable!"  ex- 
claimed the  learned  divine  time  and  again  as  he  sur- 
veyed the  well-loaded  reading  tables,  the  neat,  well- 
stocked  bookcases,  and  the  pictures  on  the  walls.  "A 
love  trap  for  boys,"  he  added  as  they  entered  the  gym- 
nasium. "An  inspiration !"  was  his  comment  in  that 
place  of  wise  device — "an  inspiration !  nothing  less." 
But  when  Wilmot  clandestinely  slipped  him  into  the 
Chapter  room  and  showed  him  the  sashes,  swords,  ban- 
ner, and  else  of  the  Knights  and  Squires  and  minutely 
explained  how  everything  had  grown  from  the  begin- 
ning, modestly  adding  the  story  of  the  Castle  of  Arms, 
which  recital  was  helped  by  photographs,  the  sedate 
divine  stood  dumb  with  delight  and  surprise.  Find- 
ing at  last  his  words,  he  said :  "Harry  Wilmot,  you  are 
a  man  sent  of  God."  Wilmot  had  once  thought  of 
that  very  phrase  himself.  "This  is  a  work  for  the 
Church  to  take  up;  the  Church  must  take  it  up  at 
once.  Ask  what  you  will,  it  shall  be  done.  These 
young  Knights  belong  to  the  Kingdom.  I  will  be  up 
here  Sunday  afternoon ;  next  week  we  will  talk.  God 
bless  you !"  and  with  that  the  pastor  of  the  big  Gothic 
Church  departed. 

That  which  should  have  come  to  pass  came  quickly. 
When  Dr.  Chadborne  saw  the  two  score  and  more  of 
boys  which  crowded  into  the  library  of  the  Boys' 
League  and  heard  how  the  young  Knights  prayed  and 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  lii 

spoke,  he  arose  on  the  spot  and  said:  "Mr.  Wilmot 
and  young  gentlemen,  this  is  the  first  and  greatest 
work  to  be  done  in  the  world.  There  is  no  limit  to  it 
if  it  be  gone  about  in  the  right  way;  for  is  not  this 
city  full — are  not  all  cities  full — of  boys,  bright,  hope- 
ful, promising  boys,  that  might  make  pure,  noble,  use- 
ful, successful  men  if  only  they  had  help,  if  only  some- 
body were  willing  to  help?  I  want  to  help.  I  will 
help  by  encouraging  you  who  have  begun  so  well. 
Your  library  is  too  small  for  your  meetings — that  is, 
your  boys'  gospel  meetings.  I  invite  you  to  hold  your 
next  Sunday's  gospel  meeli,  g  in  the  chapel  of  our 
church.  I  don't  want  to  interfere  with  you;  I  don't 
mean  to  run  your  meetings  myself ;  I  will  not  attend 
them  except  by  your  invitation;  but  I  want  you  to 
come  and  be  our  guests." 

After  Dr.  Chadborne  had  departed  and  the  gospel 
meeting  was  over,  the  twelve  retired  to  their  council 
and,  with  Wilmot,  accepted  the  invitation  to  hold  a 
boys'  gospel  meeting  at  the  big  church.  Another  mat- 
ter, not  on  the  programme,  came  up  also.  Granger, 
arising,  said:  "Mr.  Wilmot,  we  boys  have  something 
to  ask  you ;  we  want  your  advice  and  consent  in  some- 
thing we  are  about  to  propose." 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  you,"  answered  Wilmot. 
"What  is  it,  Granger?" 

"A  long  while  ago  you  told  us,"  continued  Granger, 
"that  there  was  a  better  degree  than  that  of  a  Knight 
— the  Disciple's  degree." 

"So  I  did,"  answered  Wilmot;  "and  I  have  been 
praying  that  all  my  Knights  might  some  day  take 
that  degree." 


122  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

"We  want  to  take  it  now,"  declared  Granger. 
"We've  all  talked  about  it,  all  twelve  of  us,  and  we 
have  agreed  to  ask  you  to  give  it  to  us." 

"O  my  brave  Knights,"  answered  Wilmot,  with 
tears  in  his  eyes,  "that  is  something  I  cannot  give ;  only 
the  King  himself  can  do  that.  Each  one  of  you  must 
ask  the  King  to  make  you  a  disciple." 

"Tell  us  how,  Mr.  Wilmot,"  insisted  several  of  the 
boys  together. 

"I  will  let  the  King's  own  word  tell  you,"  said  Wil- 
mot ;  and  opening  his  Bible,  he  read :  "  'Except  a  man 
be  born  from  above,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of 
God.  .  .  .  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is 
flesh;  and  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit/ 
'For  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only- 
begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  him  should 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life/  'We  love  him 
because  he  first  loved  us/  'Ye  have  not  chosen  me, 
but  I  have  chosen  you/  'If  ye  abide  in  me,  and  my 
words  abide  in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will,  and  it 
shall  be  done  unto  you.  Herein  is  my  Father  glorified, 
that  ye  bear  much  fruit ;  so  shall  ye  be  my  disciples.3  }1 

Closing  the  Book,  Wilmot  said :  "You  see  now,  my 
dear  Knights,  that  the  King  first  gives  a  new  heart,  a 
new  life  to  his  disciples.  After  that  the  disciple  must 
bear  much  fruit  in  the  King's  name.  Do  my  Knights 
all  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God  ?" 

Every  hand  was  lifted  in  ready  affirmation,  even  that 
of  little  Moses,  the  son  of  the  Jewish  peddler.  "My 
fadther,"  explained  Moses,  "he  does  not  believe  in  Je- 
sus ;  but  my  modther,  she  believes  a  little ;  but  I  believe 
all." 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  123 

"A  little  child  shall  lead  them,"  murmured  Wilmot, 
tenderly  regarding  the  child.  "The  King  is  pleased 
with  your  confession,  dear  little  Moses.  He  will  make 
you  his  disciple  indeed." 

"If  we  believe  that  Jesus  is  God's  Son,  are  we  disci- 
ples ?"  asked  Granger  with  a  clear  directness  of  inquiry. 

"Yes,  if  you  believe  it  with  all  your  heart,"  replied 
Wilmot.  "That  is,  Granger,  if  your  believing  it  has 
made  your  heart  new,  then  you  are  a  disciple  of  the 
King." 

"O,  I  know  that  my  heart  is  new,  Mr.  Wilmot," 
returned  the  frank,  brave  lad. 

"When  did  it  become  new?"  asked  Wilmot,  with  a 
full  emotion  expressed  in  his  voice. 

"That  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  cave  when  we  lis- 
tened to  hear  the  King  speak.  I  have  been  another 
boy  since  then,  sir." 

"How  do  you  know  that,  Granger?"  asked  Wilmot, 
with  a  choking  gladness. 

"Because  I  have  never  wanted  to  do  wrong  nor 
speak  wrong  since,  but  have  wanted  to  do  right  and 
learn  the  truth  and  be  a  help  to  others.  I  have  heard 
the  King's  voice  every  day  since  then,  Mr.  Wilmot." 

"Surely,"  returned  Wilmot,  "the  first  of  my  Knights 
has  long  been  a  disciple.  How  many  of  the  others 
can  say  with  Granger  that  the  King  has  given  them 
new  hearts  ?" 

Sim  and  Jimmy  Glenn  and  Kinky  and  several  of  the 
new  Knights  responded  readily  and  confidently,  but 
the  others  were  reticent.  When,  however,  Wilmot 
asked  if  all  would  not  ask  the  King  for  a  new  heart, 
they  responded  with  the  most  genuine  interest.  Kneel- 


124  r#£  GANG  OP  SIX. 

ing  amongst  the  Knights,  Wilmot  then  prayed  tender- 
ly and  earnestly  that  the  witness  might  come  to  each, 
and  in  the  double  glow  of  the  sunset  and  that  light  of 
the  Spirit  invisible  they  separated,  going  softly  out  of 
their  place  of  communion. 

It  was  now  Wilmot's  turn  to  call  on  Dr.  Chadborne. 
That  call  resulted  in  the  bringing  of  a  new  influence 
into  his  life,  and  one  that  fitted  well  into  the  harmonies 
that  already  filled  it.  Entering  Dr.  Chadborne's  study, 
he  said:  "I  have  come,  Doctor,  to  accept  on  the  part 
of  the  League  your  kind  offer  of  the  chapel  for  our 
gospel  meeting  for  boys  next  Sabbath  afternoon.  We 
will  advertise  it  well,  and  I  trust  it  may  be  the  begin- 
ning of  a  new  epoch  in  our  work." 

"I  trust  that  may  be  so,  Mr.  Wilmot,  and  I  am 
giving  myself  most  cordially  and  unreservedly  to  help 
you,"  said  the  pastoV. 

"Hitherto,"  explained  Wilmot,  "we  have  depended 
upon  our  boys  for  music.  One  of  them,  as  you  saw, 
plays  the  flute  well,  and  we  have  had  no  other  accom- 
panist; but  in  the  larger  meetings  now  planned  we 
shall  need  a  pianist.  Can  we  draw  upon  your  musical 
corps  for  that  service,  Doctor  ?" 

"Well,  that  might  be  done  temporarily;  but  our 
musicians  are  hired,  you  know,  and  they  are  not  easily 
commanded  outside  of  their  contract.  But — stay;  let 
me  reflect  a  moment.  There !  Mr.  Wilmot,  I  have  a 
plan — it  is  an  inspiration,  as  I  trust — to  draw  a  very 
gifted  and  choice  young  woman  into  religious  work. 
I  have  been  looking  for  an  opportunity;  this  one  is  of 
providential  ordering,  as  I  believe.  The  case  is  this," 
continued  Dr.  Chadborne :  "Colonel  Burton,  whom  you 


THE- DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  125 

doubtless  remember  as  a  prominent  citizen  and  leading 
member  of  our  Church,  at  his  death,  ten  or  a  dozen 
years  ago,  left  a  widow  and  two  young  daughters" — 

"That  I  remember  very  well,"  interjected  Wilmot. 

"Well,  having  a  comfortable  substance  left  her  and 
desiring  to  give  her  daughters  the  best  advantages  in 
the  way  of  education  and  travel,  Mrs.  Burton  leased 
her  home  here  and  went  abroad.  The  daughters  have 
been  finely  educated  and  are  most  gifted  women.  The 
younger  married  soon  after  her  school  days;  but  the 
elder,  Ophelia,  if  you  remember  her,  developed  a  re- 
markable talent  for  music,  and  has  devoted  herself  to 
that  art.  The  mother,  as  was  the  father,  is  deeply  reli- 
gious. The  daughter  is  not,  though  she  was  baptized 
in  infancy  and  carefully  reared.  It  is  a  case  of  being 
allured  by  pride  of  talent  and  the  love  of  this  present 
world.  Ophelia  indulges  all  sorts  of  impossible  dreams. 
If  her  womanly  heart  could  only  be  touched  for  Christ, 
she  would  become  a  shining  witness.  The  faith  has 
dwelt  in  her  family  for  generations.  Ophelia  is  full 
of  generous  impulses.  She  will  be  easily  persuaded 
to  help  us.  Shall  we  not  at  once  go  and  make  the  re- 
quest of  her?" 

"By  all  means,"  returned  Wilmot,  who  had  learned 
to  husband  his  moments,  and  who  fell  in  with  Dr. 
Chadborne's  view  of  helping  the  worldly-minded  young 
woman  into  a  service  that  might  bless  her  life. 

At  the  home  of  Ophelia's  mother  the  pastor  and  the 
young  attorney  were  not  kept  waiting.  In  a  plain 
home  gown  Ophelia  responded  to  the  summons.  Wil- 
mot had  not  seen  her  for  ten  years  or  more.  He  only 
imperfectly  recalled  her  as  a  high  school  girl  at  the 


126  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

time  of  his  return  from  college.  The  schoolgirl  in 
short  skirts  did  not  suggest  to  him  the  woman  of  five 
and  twenty  that  he  now  saw  before  him.  High- 
browed,  fine-featured,  intellectual,  handsome — beauti- 
ful had  been  a  term  too  conventional — in  manner  and 
movement,  the  woman  of  perfect  genuineness,  Ophelia 
Burton  surprised  Harry  Wilmot  out  of  his  self-mas- 
tery. For  a  moment  he  was  speechless. 

After  greeting  the  pastor,  Ophelia  turned  and,  wait- 
ing for  no  formal  word,  said:  "This  is  Mr.  Wilmot; 
I  am  glad  to  see  you  again." 

"So  you  remember  me?"  returned  Wilmot,  recover- 
ing himself  and  showing  more  animation  than  was  his 
habit. 

"Perfectly,"  answered  Ophelia.  "It  has  been  fully 
a  dozen  years  ago  since  I  saw  you  last;  but  I  was 
not  so  young  then  as  to  make  it  difficult  for  me  to 
remember,"  she  concluded  with  a  show  of  good  sense 
that  impressed  Wilmot  unusually. 

When  the  object  of  the  visit  was  opened  to  her, 
she  declined  at  first ;  but,  being  urged  by  both  the  pas- 
tor and  Wilmot,  she  at  last  consented  to  serve  until 
a  substitute  could  be  found. 

"That  committal  means  a  great  deal,"  said  Dr. 
Chadborne  as  together  he  and  Wilmot  walked  away. 
"We  must  contrive  to  so  interest  her  as  to  make  it 
permanent,  or  at  least  a  stepping-stone  to  another  serv- 
ice. I  have  been  for  some  time  impressed  that  the 
Lord  has  fitted  Ophelia  for  something  unusual." 

"In  my  heart  I  believe  it,"  responded  Wilmot.  Wil- 
mot had  a  heart  most  genuinely  human,  as  well  as 
most  genuinely  unselfish  and  religious. 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  127 

The  Sunday  afternoon  gospel  meeting  for  boys  held 
in  the  chapel  of  Dr.  Chadborne's  church  was  attended 
by  a  great  company  of  boys  and  youths.  It  had  been 
advertised  in  the  usual  way  from  the  pulpit,  and  special 
invitations  had  been  distributed  in  large  numbers  by 
the  twelve  Knights  of  the  League.  The  music  was  a 
feature.  Ophelia  Burton's  voice,  sweet  and  birdlike, 
had  been  cultivated  to  answer  every  demand  of  har- 
mony. She  had,  by  arrangement,  come  in  her  mother's 
carriage  an  hour  before  the  opening  of  the  meeting 
to  train  Granger  and  the  other  Knights  as  an  impro- 
vised choir.  Granger's  flute  made  a  helpful  accom- 
paniment to  the  piano,  and,  following  the  winsome 
voice  of  Ophelia  Burton,  the  nearly  two  hundred  boys 
in  the  company  made  a  soulful  chorus.  The  meeting 
was  conducted  in  the  simplest  way  conceivable.  Wil- 
mot  read  appropriate  selections  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment and  commented  briefly ;  then  there  were  a  prayer 
and  several  songs.  After  this,  Granger  and  the  other 
older  Knights  read  brief  Scripture  passages,  adding  a 
few  boyish  words  of  comment.  Nearly  all  the  boys 
of  the  League  spoke  some  words  or  quoted  a  Scripture 
motto.  At  last  all  the  boys  of  the  company  were  asked 
to  stand  up  for  the  King,  and  very  many  did  so.  Wil- 
mot  gave  all  an  invitation  to  visit  the  reading  rooms 
and  gymnasium,  and  also  asked  to  have  each  boy's 
name,  with  his  address,  written  upon  a  card.  After 
this,  other  songs  were  sung  and  a  final  prayer  was  said. 
As  the  close  of  all,  Ophelia  sang  a  solo :  "I  Know  that 
My  Redeemer  Lives."  It  was  a  song  that  took  the 
boys,  and  they  listened  in  perfect  silence.  Very  many 
of  the  boys  were  from  the  street,  and  some  of  them 


128  THE  GANG  OF  SIX. 

had  heard  no  such  song  in  all  their  lives  before.  As 
Wilmot  listened  he  wondered  how  Ophelia  could  put 
so  much  soul  and  pathos  into  a  gospel  song,  and  espe- 
cially into  that  song,  and  yet  be  worldly-minded — 
without  Christ.  It  could  not  be;  it  must  not  be,  so 
he  felt  within  his  heart.  As  the  boys  passed  out  he 
shook  hands  with  each,  and  stopped  to  talk  with  any 
who  would  tarry  to  hear  a  word  about  the  King's 
business.  It  was  the  greatest  day  in  the  history  of  the 
League ;  it  was  a  great  day  in  his  own  history.  As  he 
handed  Ophelia  into  her  carriage  and  thanked  her  she 
said  with  the  same  genuineness  which  he  had  noted 
before :  "I  am  rather  indebted  to  you,  Mr.  Wilmot,  for 
permitting  me  to  see  what  I  have  seen  to-day.  I  do 
not  wonder  that  you  have  given  yourself  so  fully  to 
this  work."  From  that  hour  unusually  serious  thoughts 
began  to  fill  the  mind  of  Ophelia,  and  simultaneously 
upon  the  path  of  Wilmot  was  falling  a  new  light — 
a  holy,  interpenetrating  light  of  human  tenderness. 

The  Sunday  afternoon  gospel  meetings  for  boys  be- 
came a  fixture  in  the  chapel  of  Dr.  Chadborne's 
church.  Ophelia  Burton  was  always  at  her  place  be- 
fore the  piano;  her  heart  was  being  drawn  out  in  the 
work.  She  studied  and  planned  all  the  week  in  select- 
ing and  adapting  songs  to  the  needs  and  tastes  of  the 
boys.  An  hour  before  the  meeting  each  Sabbath  after- 
noon she  had  her  boys'  choir  under  drill.  The  prog- 
ress which  the  singers  made  was  wonderful.  The 
music  was  one  of  the  truly  gospel  features  of  each 
service.  The  attendance  of  boys  increased  until  the 
chapel  was  filled  and  the  tide  rose  into  the  gallery. 
But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  committal  and  activity 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE. 

the  heart  of  Ophelia  began  to  be  filled  with  intensest 
hunger.  She  saw  about  her  the  joy  of  those  who 
knew  the  King.  The  new  and  soulful  songs  extolling 
the  beauty  and  love  of  the  King  which  she  was  con- 
stantly coming  upon  took  away  zest  for  the  voices  and 
pride  of  earthly  things,  but  they  at  the  same  time 
admonished  her  of  her  blindness  and  lack.  Often  in 
her  distress  she  sighed  and  said:  "O  that  I  had  not 
consented  to  do  this  thing!"  But  the  thought  of  lay- 
ing it  down  she  would  not  entertain.  It  was  the  cry 
and  hesitation  of  a  heart  "not  far  from  the  kingdom," 
though  she  understood  not.  But  more  prayers  than  she 
knew  went  up  for  her  that  she  might  "see  the  King 
in  his  beauty." 

Meantime  a  month  had  passed,  and  on  a  summer 
Sabbath  morning,  memorable  for  the  glory  light  which 
streamed  through  the  high  windows  of  Dr.  Chad- 
borne's  church,  Harry  Wilmot  led  the  six  first-made 
of  his  Knights  to  the  chancel  and  heard  them  take 
there  the  vow  of  discipleship  in  the  Church  of  their 
King.  That  was  a  day  of  joy  to  Wilmot,  for  he  saw 
the  fruit  of  all  his  prayers  and  plannings.  The  great 
church  was  filled  to  its  capacity ;  and  as  Dr.  Chadborne 
told  the  story  of  the  "Gang  of  Six"  and  how  its  mem- 
bers had  come  at  last  to  the  degree  of  disciples,  there 
was  deep  emotion  in  the  bosoms  of  hundreds.  From 
her  mother's  pew  Ophelia  Burton  saw  the  bright  faces 
of  the  newly  pledged  disciples  and  the  peaceful  and 
satisfied  face  of  the  man  who  stood,  like  an  elder 
brother,  beside  them.  The  dryness  of  dust  was  on  her 
lips  and  the  hunger  of  the  homeless  was  in  her  soul. 
The  choir  sang,  the  final  blessing  was  said,  and  the 
hungry-hearted  one  passed  out  with  the  throng. 
9 


1 3o  THE   GANG   OF   SIX. 

That  afternoon  Ophelia  was  not  at  the  boys'  meet- 
ing. A  note  was  sent  to  Dr.  Chadborne  explaining 
her  absence  and  summoning  him  to  an  interview. 
When  Dr.  Chadborne  arrived,  Ophelia,  like  the  frank 
woman  she  was,  said:  "Dr.  Chadborne,  I  thank  you 
and  Mr.  Wilmot  for  asking  me,  unworthy  as  I  was, 
to  lead  in  song  those  bright  and  wonderful  boys.  I 
went  reluctantly;  soon  my  heart  took  hold  of  it,  and 
then  I  feared  you  might  take  from  me  the  joy  of  so 
great  a  service.  But. now  I  see  how  far  I  am  from 
knowing  the  King.  I  am  unfit  to  lead  and  help;  I 
must  first  be  helped.  I  am  unhappy ;  my  heart  is  like 
a  stone ;  and  until  the  King  comes  and  gives  me  a  new 
heart  and  takes  away  the  sin  of  my  pride  and  folly, 
I  cannot,  I  will  not  sing  the  songs  of  his  praise.  I 
will  never  face  those  happy  boys  again  until  I  can 
say  with  them :  'I  know  the  King.'  " 

"Daughter,"  said  Dr.  Chadborne  with  an  unwonted 
tenderness  in  his  voice — for  such  scenes  as  this  were 
not  frequent  in  his  ministry — "daughter,  this  is  as  I 
prayed  and  trusted.  I  hoped  that  this  little  service 
done  the  King  might  show  you  his  face.  He  is  always 
willing,  always  ready;  only  commit  your  heart  wholly 
to  him.  He  will  do  the  rest."  Then,  opening  the  lit- 
tle Testament  which  he  carried,  he  read :  "  'If  we  con- 
fess our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our 
sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all  unrighteousness.'  Here 
is  the  King's  promise:  'If  you  confess,  he  forgives.' 
Settle  your  faith  there,  my  child,  and  have  peace." 
There  was  then  a  silence,  and  in  the  silence  the  ven- 
erable pastor  said :  "Shall  we  not  ask  the  King  to  help 
vou?" 


THE  DISCIPLE'S  DEGREE.  131 

"O  if  he  only  would !"  sobbed  the  girl  as  they  both 
knelt. 

Few  and  simple  were  the  words  of  the  pastor's 
prayer,  but  they  were  the  needed  words.  Still  kneel- 
ing, he  said:  "Daughter,  you  ask  the  King  to  help 
you."  Strange  sound  to  her  ears  was  her  own  voice ; 
but  she  heard  it,  and  the  All-Merciful  heard  also. 
The  tremulous  words  of  distress  broke  suddenly  into 
those  of  joy — the  Light,  the  King  was  come!  Dr. 
Chadborne  went  out  of  that  home  as  Moses  descended 
from  the  mountain  where  he  had  been  with  God.  He 
was  a  new  man  as  he  went ;  the  reserve  of  twenty  years 
broke  from  about  his  experience.  Henceforth  he  was 
to  preach  a  new  gospel,  or  rather  the  old  gospel  with 
a  new  power. 


X. 

THE  NEW  SONG. 

ON  the  Sunday  afternoon  following  Dr.  Chadborne's 
happy  visit  to  the  Burton  home  Ophelia  was  at  her 
place  before  the  piano,  ready  for  the  gospel  meeting 
for  boys.  There  was  radiance  on  her  face  and  peace 
in  her  heart.  She  could  now  say  with  confidence:  "I 
have  heard  the  King's  voice."  By  request  she  sang, 
as  she  had  often  done  before,  "I  know  that  my  Re- 
deemer lives."  If  the  song  had  seemed  a  soulful  one 
to  Wilmot  before,  he  now  thought  it  like  the  rapture 
of  an  angelic  harmony.  St.  John  in  the  Apocalypse 
said:  "They  sang,  as  it  were,  a  new  song."  It  was 
not  a  new  song,  but  an  old  one — the  song  of  deliver- 
ance and  triumph — sung  to  a  new  and  heavenly  tune. 
Before  singing,  Ophelia  told  simply  and  frankly  her 
story  to  the  boys — how  that  their  glad,  simple  testimo- 
nies concerning  the  King  had  touched  her  heart  and 
driven  her  to  hunger  and  crying  for  the  same  witness 
of  joy.  She  then  lifted  upon  her  rich  and  tremulous 
voice  the  words  which  have  moved  to  gladness  so 
many  multitudes.  In  the  great  company  that  filled 
the  chapel  were  many  youths,  and  not  a  few  who  be- 
longed to  the  class  of  those  who  had  reached  the  stage 
of  maturing  manhood,  for  the  fame  of  these  meetings 
had  gone  out  and  the  limit  of  the  invitation  had  been 
strained. 

Dr.  Chadborne,  who  was  present,  filled  to  overflow- 
ing with  the  new  purpose  which  had  come  to  him  and 


THE   NEW   SONG.  133 

joyful  in  a  new  baptism,  saw  how  the  whole  company 
had  been  swept  fty  the  voice  of  that  newborn  singer. 
When,  therefore,  the  meeting  had  closed  in  the  ordi- 
nary way,  which  way  was  always  extraordinary,  the 
venerable  pastor  arose  and  said:  "The  meeting  in  this 
church  to-night  will  be  a  gospel  meeting  for  everybody, 
but  especially  for  young  people  of  both  sexes  and  all 
ages,  and  such  a  meeting  will  be  held  every  night  this 
week.  The  League  of  Knights  and  Squires  has  agreed 
to  act  as  a  committee  of  invitation.  There  is  a  great 
searching  of  hearts  in  Israel  to-day.  Let  the  King 
come  to  his  own !" 

The  old  church,  with  its  many  pews  and  high  gal- 
leries, was  filled  that  night  to  its  utmost  inch,  and 
scores  had  to  be  turned  from  its  doors.  The  routine 
sermon  was  put  aside;  and  after  the  choir's  introduc- 
tory, Ophelia  Burton  sang  as  only  she  had  learned  to 
sing  in  these  last  days.  Then  the  pastor  read  brief 
scriptures  with  pungent,  penetrating  comments.  After 
that,  Wilmot  told  the  simple  story  of  his  Knights  and 
gave  the  genesis  of  the  boys'  gospel  meetings,  and  how 
more  than  two  hundred  boys  and  youths  had  been 
brought  to  Christ  in  these  simple  meetings.  After 
this,  many  of  these  boys,  grouped  by  arrangement  in 
a  place  near  the  chancel,  sang  their  "songs  of  the 
King,"  led,  of  course,  by  Ophelia  to  the  low  peals 
of  the  great  organ.  And  thus,  night  after  night,  the 
readings,  exhortations,  and  songs  went  on.  Also  the 
searchings  of  hearts  went  on,  and  the  fire  burned  open- 
ly, "and  there  was  great  joy  in  that  city." 

All  the  Knights  and  most  of  the  new-made  Squires 
were  gathered  into  the  Church  as  the  days  went  by, 


134  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

with  scores  of  other  boys  and  youth  besides.  Robert 
Mooney,  the  son  of  the  Irish  Catholic  home,  and  Jo- 
seph Pontos,  the  Greek  lad,  were  amongst  the  earliest 
to  come.  The  last  to  come  was  little  Moses  Simon; 
and  with  him,  kneeling  at  the  same  altar,  was  his 
mother,  Rachel,  who,  through  the  leading  of  her  child, 
had  been  brought  to  see  in  her  great  Countryman  not 
a  prophet  only,  but  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God. 

The  result  of  that  meeting  was  a  great  extension  of 
the  Boys'  League  throughout  the  city.  In  many 
places  Leagues  similar  to  the  first  were  formed,  all 
supervised  by  a  central  committee  of  which  Harry 
Wilmot  was  the  head.  The  boys'  gospel  meetings 
were  also  extended  to  the  chapels  of  many  churches, 
and  so  concern  in  this  work  became  general  with  the 
evangelical  pastors. 

A  committee  searched  the  streets  and  tenements  for 
homeless  boys.  Many  were  found  lodging,  as  Kinky 
had  before,  in  dark,  unseemly  places,  and  drinking 
daily  and  nightly  a  poisonous  and  death-dealing  at- 
mosphere. A  nest  of  these  waifs  was  located  under 
an  old  tobacco  barn.*  Clean  and  healthful  lodgings 
were  provided  for  these,  and  good  homes  for  not  a  few. 
The  night  school  was  extended  so  as  to  take  these  boys 
in;  and  for  the  very  young  boys  of  the  poorer  homes 
a  system  of  kindergartens  was  begun.  With  joyful 
willingness  Ophelia  Burton  took  the  oversight  of  these, 
and  in  many  a  round  of  the  city  in  her  mother's  car- 

*The  Rev.  W.  M.  Crutchfield,  assistant  pastor  of  Shearn 
Church,  in  Houston,  reports  having  found  many  such  boys 
living  under  an  old  tin  shop  in  that  city. 


THE   NEW   SONG.  135 

riage  carried  joy  to  the  homes  of  the  needy.  She 
sang  and  read  and  talked  in  these  homes,  and  learned 
to  darn  the  torn  socks  and  trousers  of  these  often 
friendless  wee  boys  with  a  thousand  times  more  satis- 
faction than  she  used  to  find  in  her  "impossible 
dreams."  Wilmot  organized  and  opened  a  workshop 
for  boys  in  which  he  installed  two  or  three  of  the  older 
Knights  and  Squires  who  knew  something  of  mechan- 
ics; he  also  helped  Granger  to  start  a  job  printing 
office  in  which  a  number  of  the  younger  boys  learned 
to  be  printers,  and  that  under  the  best  and  safest  in- 
fluences. A  committee  also  found  employment  for 
boys,  and  in  places  where  they  could  have  friends  and 
helpers  in  the  higher  and  happier  hope  that  had  been 
brought  them  through  the  League.  Thus  it  was  that 
every  boy  who  passed  through  the  gospel  meetings 
was  helped  in  the  way  he  most  needed  it.  If  he  was 
poor,  he  was  helped  to  school  and  employment;  if  he 
was  rich  or  well  to  do,  he  found  happy  and  religious 
young  companions  and  was  put  in  the  way  of  helping 
others.  Many  a  brave  and  youthful  "Christ  helper" 
was  thus  developed. 

When  the  meeting  in  Dr.  Chadborne's  church  had 
closed,  having  extended  over  two  weeks  instead  of 
one,  and  the  last  note  in  which  had  been  the  voice  of 
Ophelia  Burton  singing  "I  my  cross  have  taken," 
Harry  Wilmot  walked  softly  homeward  and  sat  long 
and  thoughtfully  in  the  elm  shadows  floating  across  the 
wide  veranda  of  his  father's  home.  The  stars  were 
shining  serenely  in  a  cloudless  summer  sky,  but  stars 
of  peace  and  glory  were  shining  in  the  sky  of  his  soul. 
There  lived  that  night  no  man  who  might  not  have 


136  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

envied  the  joy  and  great-heartedness  of  that  man  of 
thirty.  He  could  not  sleep ;  in  his  heart  there  was  too 
much  of  gladness  and  hope.  The  future  of  his  years 
seemed  flooded  with  one  perfect  song,  and  the  voice 
which  carried  that  to  the  sunset  of  his  days  was  the 
one  which  an  hour  before  he  had  heard  swelling,  un- 
utterably sweet,  through  the  arches  of  the  great 
church.  There  is  a  fitness  in  what  the  Spirit  does 
where  human  hearts  are  willing  to  be  led. 

The  next  day  bourgeoned  and  blossomed  for  Wil- 
mot  in  glad  and  surprising  things — things  the  seed  of 
which  had  been  sown  long  before.  It  was  an  early 
hour  of  the  morning,  even  before  he  had  fairly  finished 
the  reading  of  his  mail,  that  he  had  a  call  from  old 
Simon,  the  peddler.  Coming  in  with  evident  signs  of 
excitement,  he  asked  in  an  undertone :  "Are  you  alone, 
Meester  Veelmot?" 

"I  am,"  replied  the  attorney;  "but  we  can  be  even 
more  private  if  you  wish." 

"Yes,  Meester  Veelmot,  thadt  ees  goodt;  ve  veel  be 
most  brivate,  blees." 

With  that  Wilmot  led  the  way  into  his  inner  office, 
and,  bolting  the  door  behind  him  and  his  visitor,  he 
said :  "Now  we  are  beyond  the  ear  of  any  living  mor- 
tal, Simon." 

"Thadt  ees  goodt,  Meester  Veelmot,"  said  Simon, 
seating  himself  and  continuing:  "Meester  Veelmot,  you 
haf  make  my  leetle  Moses  a  Gristian,  and  den  he  haf 
make  hees  modther  Gristian." 

"And  I  trust,  Simon,"  returned  the  young  man  kind- 
ly, "that  Moses  and  his  mother  may  be  able  to  lead 
you  also  to  see  in  your  greatest  Countryman  your  own 


THE   NEW   SONG.  137 

and  the  world's  Saviour.  I  am  praying  that  it  may 
be  so,  Simon." 

"No;  eet  vass  no  use,  Meester  Veelmot.  I  cannot 
be  Gristian,  but  I  veel  no  more  say  thadt  Messiah  haf 
not  come.  I  am  Aknostic;  I  don't  know;  dere  ees 
nobody  can  know,  Meester  Veelmot.  I  vas  veeling 
thadt  my  vife  andt  Moses  be  Gristians ;  I  cannot." 

"But  I  am  happy  to  see  that  you  are  nearer  than  you 
were  when  we  last  talked,"  said  Wilmot  interestedly. 

"Thadt  may  be,  Meester  Veelmot;  budt  no  matter. 
I  haf  come  to  talk  segreet  weedth  you." 

"Very  well,"  returned  Wilmot;  "I  have  no  doubt 
that  I  shall  be  interested  in  all  you  say.  To  whom 
does  the  secret  relate?" 

"To  thadt  boy  Keenky,  of  course,  Meester  Veelmot ; 
you  vass  agsk  me  longk  time  ago  of  thadt  boy." 

"So  I  did,  Simon.  Have  you  something  to  tell  me 
more  ?"  asked  Wilmot  diplomatically. 

"I  haf  on  gondition,  Meester  Veelmot,  on  gondi- 
tion — solemn  gondition." 

"And  what  is  that  condition,  Simon?"  queried  the 
other,  endeavoring  to  control  the  almost  sensational 
interest  which  he  felt. 

"The  gondition  ees  thees:  thadt  you  veell  swear  to 
segrecy,  andt  gif  me  bond  to  do  whadt  vas  just  width 
thadt  boy." 

"I  will  pledge  myself  to  secrecy,  provided  the  secret 
should  not  be  dishonoring  to  me  or  to  others;  and 
as  for  a  bond  to  do  justice  to  Kinky,  I  will  readily  give 
that  in  any  case  where  his  interests  are  involved,"  re- 
turned Wilmot. 

"Very  veil,  then  I  trust  you,  Meester  Veelmot.     My 


138  THE   GANG   OF   SIX. 

vife,  now  thadt  she  ees  Gristian,  veell  not  let  me  rest 
until  I  do  thees  pisness  up.  You  veel  be  surprised, 
Meester  Veelmot,  to  hear  thadt  I  am  reech  man — very 
reech  man." 

"I  supposed  you  were  a  fairly  well-to-do  tradesman, 
Simon,  having  seen  your  shop  and  stock;  but  I  had 
not  thought  you  very  rich,"  answered  Wilmot. 

"Yess,  I  am  reech,  and  I  stay  peddler  to  make  eet 
seem  thadt  I  am  not  reech.  I  haf  hundred  tousand 
dollar — more,  hundred  feefty  tousand  dollar.  Budt, 
Meester  Veelmot,  feefty  tousand  dollar  of  whadt  I  haf 
call  mine  ees  belongk  to  Keenky.  My  vife,  she  veell 
no  more  rest — and,  peleef  me,  Meester  Vilmot,  /  veell 
no  more  rest  myself — until  thadt  money  ees  in  your 
hand.  You  vill  promise  me,  Meester  Veelmot?" 

"I  think  I  can,  Simon,"  replied  Wilmot  as  confident- 
ly as  was  possible  in  his  then  state  of  surprise. 

Well,  to  make  Simon's  story  short,  this  is  what  Wil- 
mot learned  from  all  his  circumlocutions  and  detailed 
accounts,  which  seemed  to  be  honest  in  every  syllable, 
though  often  difficult  to  translate  into  a  comprehensible 
setting:  Kinky's  father  was  a  young  Jew,  a  kinsman 
of  Simon,  with  whom  he  had  been  in  business  at  the 
time  of  the  former's  death.  His  name  was  Isaac  Mey- 
ers, and,  like  Simon,  he  was  a  native  of  Europe.  Being 
the  son  of  a  liberal-minded  father  and  being  well  edu- 
cated, he  had  moved  much  in  Christian  society ;  and  in 
New  York  City,  where  all  nationalities  meet  arid  min- 
gle, he  had  met  the  daughter  of  an  Italian  painter  of 
some  local  celebrity,  but  of  no  means  except  what  the 
doubtful  sale  of  his  colors  could  be  trusted  to  bring. 
Beatrice  Pizetti  had  easily  been  induced  to  accept  the 


THE   NEW   SONG.  139 

suit  of  a  handsom,e  young  lover  from  a  land  so  near  her 
own  native  soil  and  one  reputed  to  be  the  heir  of  a 
rich  father.  But  Beatrice's  father  was  not  pleased 
with  the  match.  For  a  time  there  was  hesitancy  on 
the  part  of  the  girl.  This  hesitancy,  however,  soon 
gave  way  to  purpose,  and  a  secret  marriage  was  cel- 
ebrated by  a  civil  magistrate.  The  match  promised 
happiness,  but  death  that  passed  by  the  cradle  of  one 
day  with  its  wonder  of  a  dark-eyed,  dark-haired  babe 
took  the  mother.  Two  days  later  the  father,  unable 
to  bear  the  grief  which  came  of  the  death  of  his  idol- 
ized young  wife,  ended  his  own  life  with  a  revolver. 
There  were  no  papers;  both  Meyers' s  father  and  the 
father  of  his  wife  had  disowned  them  because  of  their 
unapproved  marriage ;  the  existence  of  a  babe  was  al- 
most unknown — indeed,  the  painter  had  died  soon 
after  his  daughter's  elopement.  Simon  determined  on 
his  course  without  delay.  Turning  into  money  the 
business  which  belonged  equally  to  himself  and  his 
partner,  he  took  the  whole,  with  the  orphan  babe,  his 
wife,  and  little  Moses,  but  a  few  weeks  older  than  the 
other,  and,  covering  his  tracks,  came  South.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  story  tells  itself :  So  soon  as  Kinky  was 
able  to  run  about  and  earn  a  few  pennies,  so  as  to 
support  himself,  he  was  rooted  out  of  Simon's  nest, 
nameless  and  without  hope  or  claim  for  his  legitimate 
inheritance.  But  there  was  one,  even  the  King,  who 
took  him  up,  and  now  that  Name  above  all  names  was 
powerful  to  disclose  the  secrets  of  the  oppressor  of  the 
orphan. 

"Well,"  explained  Wilmot  after  he  had  heard  the 
whole  story,  "I  see  no  reason,  Simon,  why  I  should 


i4d  THE   GANG   OF   SIX. 

not  give  you  my  pledge  nor  why  I  should  not  give 
bond  and  take  over  Kinky's  inheritance.  There  is  no 
evidence  in  the  case  except  your  own  testimony,  nor 
would  there  be  recourse  in  law  were.  I  or  any  other 
disposed  to  distress  you,  which  I  am  not.  But  is  there 
no  possibility  that  Kinky  might  have  an  entailed  in- 
terest in  other  family  inheritances — his  grandfather's 
estate,  for  instance?" 

"No,  Meester  Veelmot,  belief  me,  there  ees  not; 
and,  pesides,  thadt  wouldt  be  gontrary  to  your  pledge 
of  segrecy." 

"Very  good ;  I  will  not  distress  you,  seeing  you  have 
done  what  seems  honest  and  fair,  though  you  were 
long  in  doing  so,  and  were  false — very  false — to  the 
child  in  his  time  of  greatest  need." 

"Even  so.  Eet  vass  not  rigdt ;  eet  vass  gruel.  But 
I  haf  suffered,  Meester  Veelmot;  and  eef  there  be 
Messiah,  I  hope  he  veell  forgif  the  sin." 

"He  will,  Simon  (for  that  is  his  promise),  if  you 
ask  him.  Could  you  not  ask  him  now  ?" 

"No,  Meester  Veelmot,  I  thingk  I  veell  not — no.  You 
veell  make  me  thadt  bond,  and  then  I  gif  you  check  for 
money.  To-morrow?  Very  veil.  Good  morning, 
Meester  Veelmot,"  and  with  that  the  Alsatian  Israelite 
took  his  departure. 

At  his  father's  home  that  evening  Wilmot  met  with 
his  second  happy  surprise.  After  tea,  the  father  said : 
"Harry,  I  want  to  see  you  for  half  an  hour  or  such  a 
matter  in  the  library."  That  was  not  an  unusual  call, 
for  Colonel  Wilmot's  habit  was  to  relax  in  the  evening, 
and  it  was  his  delight  to  have  the  members  of  his  fam- 
ily about  him.  But  the  son  very  soon  made  out  that 


THE   NEW   SONG.  141 

the  interview  was  to  be  strictly  between  him  and  his 
father.  When  they  were  seated  in  chairs  which  Colo- 
nel Wilmot  had  drawn  up  to  the  library  table,  the  latter 
spread  certain  papers  before  them  and  said:  "Harry, 
I  have  this  afternoon  bought  Applegate  Wood  and  two 
hundred  acres  of  the  meadows  and  cultivated  land 
adjoining." 

"What  do  you  propose,  father?  an  addition  to  the 
city?" 

"Not  exactly;  and  yet  it  will  be  an  immensely  val- 
uable addition,  as  I  believe.  I  propose  to  build  and 
equip  at  my  own  expense  an  industrial  and  training 
school  for  boys.  I  see  in  this  the  greatest  opportunity 
of  the  age.  Our  streets  are  crowded  with  boys  who 
for  lack  of  proper  training  and  the  impartation  of 
worthy  ideals  are  wasting  through  the  bottom  of  so- 
ciety, as  corn  grains  waste  through  the  floor  of  a 
barn.  There  is  a  way  for  me  to  help  in  rescuing 
thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  it  may  be,  in  this 
generation.  It  is  but  justice,  my  boy,  to  admit  that 
my  inspiration,  as  well  as  my  impulse  to  do  this  thing, 
has  come  through  your  work.  I  want  to  embody  the 
ideals  of  your  Boys'  League  in  this  new  institution. 
I  shall  ask  you  to  take  the  administration  of  the  trust, 
and  find,  at  whatever  cost  necessary,  the  teachers  and 
superintendents  of  departments  who  will  carry  out 
your  ideas.  I  have  long  deliberated  this  scheme,  and 
have  never  been  surer  in  all  my  life  of  a  special  guid- 
ance in  reaching  my  conclusions." 

So  it  was  that  Colonel  Wilmot  had  worked  out  every 
detail  of  his  generous  benefaction.  A  long  time  the 
son  followed  the  father  as  he  went  through  his  care- 


142  THE   GANG   Ol;   SIX. 

fully  written  specifications  and  blue  prints  for  build- 
ings, the  plotting  of  lands,  the  apportionment  of  stu- 
dios, libraries,  workshops,  laboratory,  greenhouses, 
schools,  exercise  grounds,  and  even  to  the  appointments 
of  a  natatorium.  "With  all  these,"  remarked  Colonel 
Wilmot,  pushing  back  his  chair,  "the  religious  spirit 
and  ideals  are  to  be  paramount.  These  others  are  but 
adjuncts  to  that  ultimate  purpose.  In  a  word,  this 
school  is  to  be  the  complete  making  of  men,  so  far  as 
human  help  and  agency  can  go.  The  intellect  and 
emotions  will  be  touched  with  equal  force,  while  the 
skill  and  gifts  of  each  lad  will  be  brought  out.  It  is 
the  first  work  of  civilization ;  it  is  to  be  accepted  as  the 
ultimate  high  task  of  the  Church  in  the  saving  of  the 
race.  Deeds,  not  theories ;  a  direct,  personal,  and  per- 
sistent ministry  on  the  part  of  every  one  who  can — 
the  largest  for  those  who  have  ability;  the  least  for 
those  who  can  offer  no  more.  This  that  I  offer  is  little, 
but  it  is  dedicated  in  hope." 

Harry  Wilmot  slept  but  little  that  night;  the  events 
of  the  day  were  overwhelming  to  his  senses.  His 
thoughts  in  half  dreams  wandered  through  heights  and 
depths  of  purpose,  present  and  prophetic,  and  mingling 
with  them  went  high  hopes  born  of  a  perfect  and  pas- 
sionate human  love. 

But  why  should  I  linger  in  the  years  of  my  story? 
Its  lessons,  though  imperfectly  expounded,  have  all 
been  set  down  in  their  order.  The  story  as  I  have 
found  it  is  one  of  life,  of  possible,  practical,  logical  ap- 
plication, in  living,  of  the  Galilean  principle.  The  Mas- 
ter's secret  is  the  one  that  forever  holds,  his  plan  the 


THE   NEW   SONG.  143 

one  that  always  tells — namely,  that  each  one  who  has 
found  the  kingdom  of  God  should  become  to  as  many 
as  he  may  the  door  to  that  kingdom ;  and  these,  if  nev- 
er so  few,  will  multiply  themselves  into  doors  for  oth- 
ers. The  Master  chose  twelve  to  be  with  him,  and 
these  he  filled  with  himself;  in  their  turn  they  filled 
others,  and  the  filling  shall  go  on  until  the  world  is 
leavened  into  perfectness.  Those  who  undertake  to 
do  all  things  will  do  nothing;  but  those  who  do  hum- 
ble things  well  will,  in  the  end,  be  doers  of  great  and 
immortal  deeds.  Duty  is  measured  by  ability,  and 
opportunity  is  at  last  subject  to  a  sane  and  prayer- 
helped  judgment.  We  can  do  what  we  can  do,  no 
more.  Love  has  ordained  that  we  do  so  much,  and 
woe  to  those  who  hold  back  from  the  doing!  "Follow 
me !"  is  the  King's  command.  That  means  movement, 
service — definite,  intelligent,  and  in  the  end  fruitful 
service.  Harry  Wilmot  is  our  sober,  everyday,  heart- 
true  ideal  of  a  disciple.  If  his  example  helps  any  to 
profit  withal,  we  shall  feel  repaid  for  our  humble  effort 
to  coax  him  out  of  his  quiet  ways  of  serving  and  lov- 
ing. 

But  I  am  mindful  before  closing  these  pages  that 
certain  questions  are  being  asked  by  my  readers,  and 
these  it  will  be  my  pleasure  to  answer.  » 

Did  Kinky  recover  his  inheritance  from  the  self- 
confessed  Simon,  the  peddler?  He  did;  it  was  paid 
into  the  hands  of  Wilmot,  who  gave  the  necessary 
bond  as  Kinky's  guardian.  The  whole  sum  was  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  with  interest  for  ten  years.  After 
this  payment,  it  appeared  that  Simon  was  still  rich — 
"very  rich,"  as  he  averred.  Immediately  after  this 


144  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

transaction  he  built  a  beautiful  home  on  the  Avenue,, 
invested  in  a  representative  business  in  the  city,  and  be- 
came a  useful  citizen.  He  was  often  thereafter  seen 
in  Dr.  Chadborne's  church  with  his  wife  and  son.  It 
is  hard  for  the  leopard  to  change  his  spots.  Simon 
has  never  confessed  the  King ;  but  often  he  has  stopped, 
silk  hat  in  hand,  at  the  door  of  the  great  church  after 
service  to  greet  Dr.  Chadborne  and  invariably  to  say : 
"Pastor,  I  like  your  doctorments."  There  are  many 
prayers  going  up  for  old  Simon,  and  none  of  these  is 
more  earnest  than  those  offered  up  by  Kinky  and 
Harry  Wilmot. 

I  now  hear  the  question  asked :  "Did  all  the  Knights 
of  the  League  hold  out?  Did  they  all  keep  the  word 
of  the  King?"  They  did  not  all  hold  out.  The  Mas- 
ter chose  twelve  disciples,  and  of  these  there  was  found 
one  to  betray  him  and  another  to  deny.  It  has  ever 
been  so.  But  I  shall  not  disclose  here  the  names  of 
the  two  of  those  who  took  high  vows  in  the  Castle  of 
Arms  and  then  went  astray  in  the  enchanted  paths  of 
manhood.  Shall  he  that  follows  his  Lord  build  more 
securely  than  He? 

It  was  twelve  years  after  that  first  Sabbath  after- 
noon visit  of  Wilmot  and  his  street  "gang"  to  Apple- 
gate  Wood  that  I  came  into  a  full  knowledge  of  the 
things  of  which  I  have  written  in  this  narrative.  It  was 
then  that  I  learned  that  Mr.  Parry  Granger,  a  young 
man  of  four  or  five  and  twenty,  the  head  of  the  largest 
printing  establishment  in  the  city,  the  chairman  of 
nearly  all  its  charity  and  benevolent  movements,  and  a 
connoisseur  in  music,  was  none  other  than  the  head 
of  the  former  "Gang  of  Six."  The  cheerful,  wooded 


THE  NEW  SONG.  145 

slope  before  the  Cliff  of  Arms  in  the  Applegate  Wood 
had  been  transforme'd.  A  wall  with  a  high-arched  gate 
inclosed  the  wood,  and  through  the  open  spaces  made 
therein  looked  the  fine  stone  fronts  of  the  ample 
buildings  of  "The  Wilmot  Technical  and  Industrial 
School  for  Boys."  Before  that  splendid  monument 
of  his  unselfishness  had  been  completed  Colonel  Wil- 
mot slept,  as  he  had  said,  his  last  sleep;  but  a  lifelike 
bronze  statue  of  him  looks  from  the  front  of  the  house 
of  his  building,  and  no  boy  ever  passes  under  it  with- 
out a  sense  of  thankfulness  and  reverence.  From  his 
offices  in  the  Applegate  Building  Harry  Wilmot  ad- 
ministers the  munificent  trust  of  his  father,  and  attends, 
as  he  can,  to  the  welfare  of  his  Knights,  represented 
in  many  Chapters  modeled  after  that  first  fellowship 
in  the  Castle  of  Arms.  Sim  Phillips — I  should  say 
Dr.  'Phillips,  for  he  took  his  doctorate  in  a  fine  old 
school  beyond  the  waters — is  the  chief  genius  in  the 
faculty  of  the  Wilmot  School.  Robert  Mooney,  the 
Irish  Knight,  is  the  head  of  the  finely  appointed  ma- 
chine shop  of  the  "Wilmot,"  where  hundreds  of  boys 
taken  from  the  street  are  every  year  trained  to  the 
highest  degree  of  skill.  The  experimental  and  prac- 
tical farm  of  the  School,  which  is  every  year  made  like 
a  tract  in  "fertile  Phthia,"  is  under  the  direction  of 
three  former  Knights  who  were  sent  away  to  be  fitted 
in  chemistry,  geology,  and  agriculture  for  this  espe- 
cial use.  You  would  know  the  chief  of  this  staff  as 
Jimmy  Glenn,  the  widow's  son.  Mack  Pooley  is  di- 
rector in  the  textile  school,  and  Joseph  Pontos,  the 
Greek  boy,  who  was  sent  back  to  his  native  Greece  to 
study,  teaches  the  classic  course,  and  is  master  of  the 
athletic  field. 


146  THE   GANG   OF  SIX. 

There  are  nearly  four  hundred  boys  gathered  into 
the  halls  and  dormitories  of  this  model  school  last 
year.  A  fine  chapel  building  stands  over  the  very 
spot  where  the  Knights  used  to  light  their  camp 
fires,  and  from  its  rear  a  stone  stair  goes  up  to  the 
Castle  of  Arms,  about  which  has  been  built  a  castel- 
lated parapet  of  fine  white  stone.  Every  Sabbath  aft- 
ernoon these  hundreds  of  boys  gather  in  their  chapel 
to  partake  of  much  the  same  simple  but  high  and  soul- 
ful fellowship  enjoyed  by  the  one-time  "Gang  of 
Six."  Once  each  year  Wilmot  gathers  together  as 
many  of  his  first  Knights  as  have  remained  faithful  to 
him — and  they  are  a  goodly  company — and  with  them 
he  repairs  to  the  Castle  of  Arms,  when  the  feast  is 
spread,  the  candles  are  lit,  and  they  live  over  in  their 
stronghold,  which  is  all  unchanged  within,  the  days 
that  sealed  their  hearts  unto  a  unity  of  purpose. 

At  this  time  Kinky,  the  youngest  of  the  Knights,  is 
finishing  his  education  in  an  Eastern  college.  He  has 
visited  the  native  land  of  his  mother  to  study  art  in 
rare  old  Florence.  He  is  to  give  yet  other  years  to 
art  in  the  home  of  Raphael  and  Lorenzo,  for  a  double 
portion  of  the  spirit  of  his  grandsire  has  come  upon 
him.  He  is  no  longer  Kinky,  but  Mr.  Wilmot  Pizetti 
Meyers,  having  assumed  the  name  of  his  first  benefac- 
tor along  with  those  of  his  ancestors.  Kinky — for  so 
we  must  call  him  at  last — is  devoutly  and  evangelically 
religious.  He  still  hears  the  voice  of  the  King  and 
still  haunts  with  his  eyes  the  glory  of  sunsets  and  sun- 
rises. He  has  one  supreme  ambition,  and  that  is  to 
translate  the  mediaeval  art  of  his  motherland  into  the 
saner  light  and  color  of  the  disenthralled  faith  of  the 


THE   NEW   SONG.  147 

Christ  of  to-day.  There  is  a  studio  awaiting  his  return 
under  the  shadow"  of  the  ferns  of  the  Cliff  of  Arms. 
It  will  be  a  high  day  on  Applegate  campus  when  he 
returns. 

A  fine  boulevard  leads  from  the  city  limits  to 
Applegate  arch.  It  is  now  near  the  sunset.  A  glory 
is  spread  over  half  the  sky ;  like  a  mist  of  gold  it  falls 
on  the  roofs  and  groves  below  the  Cliff  of  Arms.  A 
carriage  is  moving  along  the  boulevard;  it  is  passing 
through  the  Applegate  arch.  In  it  are  a  handsome 
man,  whom  you  would  take  to  be  forty  years  of  age, 
arid  a  lady  of  striking  features — beautiful,  you  would 
say,  if  that  did  not  seem  an  insufficient  term.  Queenly 
is  the  word  you  feel  impelled  to  use.  A  shout  bursts 
from  the  throats  of  scores  of  boys  on  the  campus,  and 
caps  are  lifted  in  salutation  by  the  way.  I  think  we 
should  know  this  handsome  pair.  They  are  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Harry  Wilmot.  Of  course  you  remember  that 
Mrs.  Wilmot  was  Ophelia  Burton.  She  is  a  woman 
whose  devout  spirit  and  high  gifts  fit  well  into  the  life 
and  ideals  of  her  husband.  God  has  made  her  new 
song  a  blessing  to  thousands. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


i&y®mw^ 

I          1WU- 

(;,JflN$     Hfn 

§EC29j97j) 


Form  L9-50ni-4,'61(B8994s4)444 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

linn  11 


AA    000475446 


